Lunar Cocoon
by FreelySheRoams
Summary: Returning from Alaska, Penelope Garcia and Derek Morgan will never be the same. Finding themselves on a chaotic journey of self discovery, their friendship gets pushed to the limit. With the help of the team can they find their way back home? Or, is it already too late...Warning: Strong Themes & Sexual Situations.
1. I

**A/N Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds, but my muse wants to borrow these characters for a bit. Warning: this will be a chaotic story delving into some serious subject matter. Also, any misspellings are my own.**

 **Please, enjoy!**

 **Lunar Cocoon**

Chapter I:

" _One…two…three…in_." She chanted the simple mantra to herself, hoping to ease her mind.

Clutching the sink till her knuckles turned white, she exhaled the breath she had been holding. Though as the seconds continued to tick by, her frustrations only grew.

" _Frack_!" was her last coherent thought as her stomach clenched, twisting into tight knots of anxiety.

Gritting her teeth and snapping her eyes shut, she braced herself even as the sob broke past her lips. Blindly reaching for the handles of the sink, she managed to knock over several items before twisting the water on. Splashing the cold water on her face had shocked her senses and brought her a brief moment of reprieve, but it was quickly shattered by the harsh knocks on the door.

"Plum sauce?" His nasally voice barked outside her bathroom, or rather the little sanctuary she had cocooned herself in for the last hour.

The fact that he had waited this long to follow after her, was a glaring contrast to the other main man in her life, one she knew would have never let her storm off while she was in a state of distress. His face flashed to the forefront of her mind and she quickly reprimanded herself, " _Stop it, Penelope_!"

Yanking a towel off the shower bar she pressed the harsh cotton against her face. Finally opening her eyes, she instantly regretted it. Staring into the mirror, she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Her bright hazel eyes were red and swollen, and the light purple underneath her lids was a stark reminder of the sleep she wasn't getting. It also didn't help that her makeup was now completely smeared, adding to her look of dread and dampening her mood.

"Pennky-kins!" Rattling the doorknob this time as he knocked again.

" _One…two…three…in._ " She mumbled once again, hoping the calming breath would give her the energy she was searching for.

"Come on Penny!" He whined. "We can still make it if we leave now."

"I told you I'm not going, Kevin!" She could only rasp out, her voice still tight and weak from crying.

"But I already told them you would be there!"

She could only roll her eyes at his oblivious nature. Her Hot Stuff would know instantly by the tone of her voice that something was wrong. " _No, stop it_!" Once again chiding herself. Kevin was not a profiler. How would he know? " _But he is your boyfriend_." The thought entered her mind and her stomach once again somersaulted, forcing her to bite back the nausea. Shaking her head, she was definitely going to have a migraine tonight.

"I don't feel well."

"We don't have to stay the whole time." The doorknob rattled again. It was quiet for a moment until "You promised."

She did promise. Had known about it for weeks. Dinner with his parents, how could she forget. Guilt began to seep into her veins, pumping anxiety through her system. Penelope knew how important this was for him. A chance to impress his family and few close friends. But not tonight. Not when she felt so broken and alone. Her anger flared back up again as she remembered why she had locked herself up in the bathroom to begin with.

Flinging the door open, she didn't even stop it as it banged against the counter.

Having not expected the sudden outburst, he jumped back, his eyes widening at her appearance.

"Oh Penny!" he cooed. "You don't have to be nervous."

The harsh laugh that erupted out of her mouth, surprised even her. As a new set of tears sprung forth, she quickly wiped her cheeks, wondering how he could be so clueless.

"Nervous?" she gritted out.

"They're going to love you." A crooked smile graced his lips as he stepped forward, reaching a hand out to place a curl of hair behind her ear. She didn't miss his eyes narrowing as she reflexively tensed beneath his touch. "Penelope." His voice had lost the once-upon-a-time-endearing whine and had turned serious.

"Please. Not tonight."

"I never ask you for anything. Why can't you do this for me?"

Her eyes closed, willing the pounding headache to fade away. Before she could even defend herself, he continued his rant.

"You know. I'm trying, I really am. But you're not making this easy for me." He awkwardly went to place his hand on her elbow, shifting it at the last moment to her shoulder, giving it a squeeze that was a little too hard for comfort.

"I'm sorry. I just, I can't go see your parents tonight. After everything that's happened this week I'm not-…"

"Of course you're not up for it! How could you be when you won't let me comfort you?" His voice rose, obviously a nerve had been struck and she stepped right on it.

"That's not true and you know-…"

"Oh isn't it! You go to Alaska and you come back…and…and-…" His shoulders slumped and he looked away, taking a moment to compose himself. "Let me help you." Grabbing her other shoulder, he tried to bring her into a hug but her hands shot up and pushed against him.

"Damn it, Penny!" Her dismissal was like a slap to his face. His pain of rejection was evident, as was the quick flash of anger, which she didn't miss. She had seen that look across her computer screens enough times to recognize it.

Garcia couldn't even say why she did it, since her body was begging for human contact. The desperate desire to connect with somebody was so strong it was making her ill. She needed something, _or_ _someone_ , to chase away this horrible feeling that hadn't left her since she washed that man's blood off her hands a few days before. She tried to clear her mind of the horrible image only to have it replaced with an image of Him.

His face, with a pair of what she believed to be the most defining eyebrows known to man, would be crinkled with concern. His big hands resting upon her chin forcing her to look at him, demanding she seek his comfort. She had to bite her lips to keep them from quivering as a shudder rippled through her body. Unfortunately, she wasn't aware of how closely Kevin was watching her every move.

"Oh. Okay. I get it." He had taken a few steps back. "I'm not Derek."

Her eyes flew open wide, mouth slightly parting.

"What! Kevin, no that's not it. I just don't feel well." Her body was aching with exhaustion, yet a fight was not what she needed. Forcing herself forward she tried to console him. "I just need to go to sleep."

"I'm not stupid, Penelope." Oh, boy. The use of her whole name, he was mad. "He's been here every day this week and you have no qualms cuddling up with him, but me…I try to hug you and it's world war III!"

She hated confrontation. " _One…two…three…in,_ " reminding herself to calm her breathing she forced a smile upon her face "Okay, wait! Just give me twenty minutes to shower and change and I'll be ready to-…"

"No! Forget it." He shook his head, rolling his eyes.

Her generous heart didn't want to hurt him, wrapping her arms around his waist she hugged him, hoping it would calm him down. It usually worked. As his arms slowly started to wrap around her, she knew it was going to work. Then her cell went off on the dresser next to where they were standing. A message blinking "Baby Girl" flashed across the screen.

Shoving out of her embrace, Kevin glared at her. "Oh look! It's your Hot Stuff. Wouldn't want you to miss it!" Storming out of the room, she flinched as the front door slammed shut behind him.

Wrapping her arms around herself, she sunk to the floor. The sobs that wracked her body, were raw and resembled that of a wounded animal. The emotions she had been suppressing all day were finally emerging and she had no energy to fight them anymore.

It wasn't until the ringing of her cell phone that her idled mind came crashing back to reality. Looking around the room, she wasn't sure how much time had passed. Though if the street lights were any indication, she had lost an entire evening.

" _One…two…three…in"_ Taking a deep breath, she stood back up and entered the bathroom. The soft click of the lock, encasing her back inside her cocoon.

* * *

" _One_!" He thought to himself.

The sharp crack of wood echoed throughout the field as the ball flew across the night sky. He hadn't missed the fact that the evening breeze carried the familiar scent of blooming flowers. The distinct smell of Jasmine filled his senses to be forever engrained in his mind as belonging to her. Shaking his head he braced himself to swing again.

" _Two_!" Teeth clenched, his hands gripped the wood. Breathing deeply, he tried to relax his shoulders, only to once again swing too aggressively, sending the white speck spiraling out into the distance.

" _Derek_!" He almost dropped the bat. Her voice whimpering his name with need hadn't left his thoughts since they took off from Alaska. Shifting his pants, he reached for the bottle of water next to his gym bag, hoping to swallow the desire that's plagued his body for three days.

Stepping back up to the plate, he wasn't even surprised as he completely missed the ball. Nor the next two. Both went flying past his head, and with a near miss to his elbow, he finally decided to call it a night.

After tossing his gear into the trunk, Derek found himself sitting in his SUV. Eyes closed as he rested back against the headrest. His body still strumming with tension. He had fully intended on bringing some random, nameless, female back to his house to take away the ache, only to dance half the night away to discover that what he desired was across town, probably cuddled up next to her _Lynch_. Hence how he had ended up at the batting cages instead, hoping to find some satisfaction in the familiar sport as he swung out his aggression.

Repulsed with the image of that geek touching her, especially after he had more knowledge of what it felt like himself, he couldn't stop his mind from wandering. Heck half, if not all, of his fantasies already involved her, so it only took but a mere second to conjure up the image of his best friend. His Baby Girl.

Vibrant and curvaceous. Kindhearted and compassionate. His perfect fit. His God Given Solace that kept him grounded, always lighting his way back home like the North Star. " _Easy Morgan. She's your friend."_ Even with that reminder he couldn't stop the smile that graced his lips as he thought about her new red locks. She probably had the softest hair he had ever touched. And then it happened, the image of him grabbing her neck, fingers tangling with her loose hair as he brought her face closer so he could kiss her. Both of them trying to consume each other with an urgency that had left him feeling like he had been set on fire.

Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to relive the moment.

* * *

_ _Flashback_ _

Derek stood outside their door. JJ had left a little bit ago, saying Penelope was taking a shower, and yet he couldn't find the courage to walk inside yet. Having just viewed the body of the man Garcia had tried to save, had left him feeling panicked, the kind that chilled his body to the core. Flashes of seeing her in a hospital bed after almost being killed by Battle, was still a sore wound, one that probably would never fully heal. His mission to protect her at all costs, was a pledge he took that night as he rushed his way to the emergency room. Tonight, though, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had once again let her down.

Walking inside, he swiftly swept his eyes across the quaint little room, noticing the light was on behind the bathroom door. Taking off his coat, he was going to sit up and wait for her, until he heard it. He would have missed it, if his senses weren't already in overdrive, but the muffled sob behind the door sounded like a bomb going off to him. Reacting instantly he went to the door, hand ready to knock, when it opened.

Startled at his presence, Penelope gasped, barely masking the shriek that tore from her lips. Having thrown her hand that was clutching her glasses to her chest, she tried to catch her breath. Derek, however, had forgotten how to breathe.

Once the steam that had emerged with her from the bathroom disappeared, the sight before him had the usually stoic, alpha male ready to beg on his knees and praise at her alter. His Baby Girl was nothing short of a Goddess.

Having not expected to see him before she had a chance to settle into the bed, Penelope had opted for pajamas that were obviously more for comfort than for cover. The pale yellow thermal long sleeve top and matching pants were littered with little pink and white stars. It screamed Garcia, though it was the fact that said thermal was well worn and practically see through that had his eyes and jaw lock in place while something else stirred below. She wasn't wearing a bra after all and the light next to her did a damn good job of forcing his attention to the small taut peaks upon curves he had dreamed about for five years.

A gentle cough shattered his thoughts and forced his eyes to drag slowly back up to her face. Being completely free of makeup, with eyebrows knitted in confusion and full lips pouting but trying to smile, she stood before him. Derek's heart clenched at how innocent and lost she looked. It was a rare sight to see her defenses down and to be so visibly vulnerable. He had all it could take to not pick her up and cocoon herself into his arms as he drove her fears away on that bed. He decided to grab her glasses instead.

Gently taking them out of her hands, he wiped them clean on his cotton shirt, using the extra time to calm his nerves. He wasn't going to do his best friend any favors if all he could think about was ravishing her. " _Stop it, Morgan_ ," he chided himself.

Then he looked at her. Her hazel eyes, red and puffy from crying. Face still flushed from the heat of the shower. Taking a deep breath he slid the glasses back on her face, the small gesture making her smile.

"Thank you, Hot Stuff," came her soft reply. Her eyes were sad but briefly sparkled with genuine gratitude and though he believed he hadn't done anything worthy of such faith that was all it took.

Stepping forward, he invaded her personal space. Placing his hand firmly on her shoulder, he slowly but surely snaked it around her neck, fingers tangling with the curling red locks. He didn't even remember how it happened, but the minute his lips touched hers, he knew he would never be the same.

As her breath caught and her arms wrapped around his waist, clutching to his shirt for dear life, he waited for her to give him permission. Hoping the litanies he was sending up to whoever was looking out for him, would grant him his wish and that she wouldn't reject him. He finally felt his nerves stop spiraling out of control when the small whimper of desire left her lips, and she began to return the kiss.

Backing her against the nearest wall, his other hand reached up underneath her shirt, finding its resting place right above the curve of her ass. Gently nibbling on her bottom lip, he easily became overwhelmed with everything that was Penelope. From the shampoo that filled his senses with the light aroma of Jasmine, to the gentle press of her breasts against his firm chest, which had him pushing her even closer against him. It was this moment when he realized that his hands were greedily seeking the warmth of her supple body, and he truly thought he had found a piece of heaven.

Until she parted her lips.

Her sharp nails dug into the back of his hips, pulling him even closer, forcing his knee between her legs. The soft keen from the back of her throat, caused him to yank her head back and his tongue to delve further into her mouth. While their tongues dueled for dominance, he felt the shift in Penelope from passive to active participate. Shocking him with her bold movement of running her hand across the front of his pants, resting against the evident bulge. She hesitantly and then firmly squeezed him, gently running her thumb back and forth.

It was like a fire had been ignited inside of him. His hand which had somehow ended up cupping her ass, was now fondling a breast. He couldn't help the grin that covered his face and if he was less of a profiler he would have asked her to pinch him, though the weight of her breast in his hand was proof enough. They were firm and perky and more than a handful, and as his fingers slipped to her nipple he couldn't help but tweak it, tugging on it gently until a small moan escaped her lips.

His other hand had taken on a mind of its own and was descending into the front of her pants. He could only groan, when he didn't discover any underwear and the tips of his fingers graced the small trimmed hairs above her sex. Through the haze of lust he barely recognized the soft clink of his belt being undone and the hiss of his zipper being pulled down. He was just about to drag them over to the bed where they could better enjoy themselves when it happened.

The breaker outside shut off again. Covering the pair in complete darkness. Penelope, whose eyes had still been closed, took another full minute to realize what had happened. Though once she did, he noticed her body was still taught with fear and had begun to shake as she tried to wipe the tears off her cheeks which she couldn't blink away. Wrapping his arms around her swiftly, he pulled her into a hug. Her comfort and safety his first priority, dousing the fire that had been ablaze between them in an instant. They stood there for a moment, both heavily panting and hands still under each others shirts, holding on to the intimacy that would be lost when the lights came back on.

Cooing softly into her ear, he rocked her back and forth, promising her everything was going to be alright. Then the lights flickered back on and his fears came true. Though her crooked shirt and slightly fogged glasses were adorable, it couldn't hide her doe like expression. She looked absolutely confused and lost, perhaps even broken. And though her eyes were still fully dilated with desire and as her heartbeat coursed through her veins against the palm of his hand where it rested against her neck, he knew he had crossed a line.

He almost lost her tonight. His worst fear, leading him to forget that she was taken. His Baby Girl wasn't single, but tonight that hadn't mattered to him. Not when she had put herself into harm's way. Every nerve in his body needed to feel her, to make sure she was still there, still alive.

"Derek." Her voice was barely above a whisper. It was questioning and yet, full of need.

He was about to reach out for her, desperately wanting to continue...

"Knock...knock…knock!"

_ _End Flashback_ _

* * *

The harsh knocks against the window of his SUV brought Derek back to reality. Taking a minute to reorient himself, he had to close his eyes against the flashlight that was shining directly into his face. Looking up, he was relieved to see it was only Jeff, the ball park security guard. And considering how often Derek frequented this place, he knew Jeff was just starting his nightly patrol, which made him realize how long he had been sitting there.

"Sorry Morgan. I would of let ya sleep, but I have to lock up." The older man apologized.

"It's okay. Sorry I made you stay late," came his short reply, too exhausted to offer up a proper explanation.

Starting up his SUV he began the short journey home, regretfully leaving just as anxious as when he first arrived.

To be continued...


	2. II

**A/N I still do not own Criminal Minds. I don't know where my muse went with this, but please hang on for the ride. I also wanted to thank those who read this and followed. And to those who reviewed, thanks for your kind words, I greatly appreciate the feedback!**

 **Please, enjoy!**

 **Lunar Cocoon**

Chapter II:

"Did you know people often associate colors with certain flavors?" Reid asked, bouncing the baby on his knee. His only response from the eight month old was a gurgle as his chubby little hands reached for a lock of Spencer's hair.

"I bet his favorite color is blue!" came Garcia's voice from the kitchen.

Reid looked down at the baby covered in his favorite snack and smiled. They learned their lesson from babysitting awhile back that it was best to change Henry before he devoured the blueberries. Since half of it ended up smooshed in his hair, face and clothes anyway. Speaking of messes, Garcia had popped her head through the archway that divided the living room, where Reid had set up camp with Henry, and the kitchen. The flour she was baking with was smeared across her face and blouse, and her ponytail was still missing the colorful barrette she had lost to Henry's ever growing curiosity.

"Did you know before muffin tins were popular, people baked cakes in pottery cups," grinning at her, he continued. "Which is why they are named cupcakes."

"Now I do," laughing and taking off the apron, Garcia walked towards them. "But did you know, that after years of practice I finally got the perfect shades of food coloring down for the frosting," having kicked off her purple heels earlier in the evening, she quickly sat down next to them. "Oh, they're going to be delicious!"

Henry squealed and twisted his body towards his Godmother.

"Hello, my little love bug!" she gushed, picking him up as Reid held him out to her.

Leaning against the couch, Reid took the moment to watch them interact. Being an observer by nature and a close friend of Penelope's he recognized the subtle shift in her demeanor upon arriving to babysit Henry. JJ had insisted on cancelling her monthly nigh-out-on-the-town dinner with Will, being that she was still worried about her best friend because of what happened in Alaska. Penelope however, had adamantly counteracted every reason with how much she loved Henry and wouldn't miss one of these special days for the world. After a half hour of watching the two blondes go back and forth, Will had finally managed to get JJ out of the house.

Henry clapped his hands and bounced up and down on her lap as she sang him some of her favorite Broadway show tunes. Henry loved every minute of it, especially since she did various impersonations of each character, and even Spencer found himself laughing at her quirkiness.

About ten minutes later the timer on the oven dinged, alerting the adults that the first batch of sweets were now complete. Garcia gave the baby a hug and smiled as Henry placed his little hands on her cheeks, patting them gently as he babbled nonsensical things.

"Aw, don't worry my little genius, I'll only be gone a minute," giving him a kiss atop his head, she laid him back on his play mat, making sure he had his favorite stuffed dinosaur in front of him.

Reid watched as she got up and headed towards the kitchen, stopping for a second to glance at her phone, which had vibrated against the coffee table. Turning away quickly she practically flew into the other room. Reid bit the inside of his cheek, swallowing his urge to rattle off statistics at her Un-Garcia like behavior. For the BAU's 'tech kitten' as Rossi so often deemed her, would not leave a message unattended. Yet, that's exactly what she had been doing all evening.

Reid hadn't found it too strange when it was Kevin's messages she was ignoring. Since she had often done that while babysitting, many times answering her phone to tell him she was busy with her Godson. Morgan's messages however, now that was different. The last few alerts had his distinct ringtone as well as his name flashing across her screen, and Reid had watched as Garcia's lips pursed together as panic flashed across her face.

When Reid had mentioned her cell phone after the third missed call from her Hot Stuff, she just smiled and put all of her attention onto Henry and when that tactic had become a little too obvious she had switched to her new hobby, baking cupcakes. JJ's kitchen had literally become a bakery and he had no idea what she could possibly do with six batches of sweets, either everyone was getting a batch on Monday or JJ was going to gain twenty pounds.

Rubbing Henry's back as he slowly drifted off to sleep, he was reminded of how tired Garcia looked. She never took naps while she was with her favorite little man, but today she had nodded off several times, and Reid had insisted she take a nap. Only after threatening to call JJ to tell her to come home did she reluctantly agree.

Reid wasn't very good at voicing his concern for others, he usually stated statistics and hoped people got the message behind all of his knowledge. Today however, while Garcia had fallen asleep, his concern had only grown. He had felt helpless as he watched her struggle through a nightmare and he had come close to calling Derek or JJ, but then – to his relief, she had calmed herself down. Now he could only sit by as he listened to her rush around the kitchen.

On Monday he would talk to Morgan. Until then, he would get Henry to help brighten up her day.

* * *

It was only eight o'clock and though her heart felt a little lighter, Penelope was completely exhausted. Having caught the looks of concern from Reid all night, she knew he had something to do with JJ arriving home two hours early. She loved her family, but she was fine and didn't need them to worry – especially since they couldn't fix it.

Shuffling up the stairs to her apartment, she cursed herself for not finding a place with an elevator. Struggling with three batches of cupcakes and trying to dig through her purse to find her keys she was shocked when her door swung open. Looking up she had to suppress a moan.

Standing in her doorway, he looked every 6 feet and 1 inch of masculinity. Wearing dark denim jeans that hung low on his hips and a white cotton shirt that looked like it was about to tear any moment against his biceps, had her salivating. She looked down at the floor hoping to find her self-control only to discover his bare feet. " _How the hell does a man's feet look attractive?_ " she wondered to herself.

"Hey Mama, I've been waiting for you," his husky voice floated over to her, pulling her back from her thoughts.

"Huh," was her only response. _Gosh focus, Garcie!_

Smiling at her, he took her purse and coat and she couldn't help but notice that he put them in the correct places. He then walked back and grabbed the sweets from her, leaning in and giving her the familiar peck on her forehead. And if it wasn't for her racing heart and - to her chagrin, wet panties, this moment would be exactly like old times.

"We really need to get your breaks checked," came his concern, an eyebrow arched with emphasis. "I could hear Esther a block away,"

"What?" she felt lost in her own home.

They hadn't really talked since that night in Alaska. After the heated encounter by the bathroom, they had fallen asleep on the bed, her last coherent thought was Derek's comforting words. That is until she bolted awake, her body covered in a cold sweat as tears streamed down her face. She felt his arms wrap around her body and the images of what happened next had her cheeks blushing from the memory.

Catching Derek's inquisitive stare, she abruptly turned around, embarrassed to see her door was still wide open. Going to shut it, it slipped from her grasp and slammed shut. She awkwardly fumbled with the lock for a minute as she desperately tried to compose herself. Taking a deep breath, she unfastened the top button on her white blouse, with the purple and green flowers on it, in hopes that it would cool her off, only to turn around and be reignited as she caught the arousal in his eyes.

He was leaning against the counter, and his knowing smirk that was plastered across his face irritated her. _How could he be so cool in a time like this?_

"Derek," came her simple plea.

He lifted a long finger and crooked it at her, and she had everything in her power not to turn into a pile of goo. She forcefully shook her head and felt her ponytail bounce back and forth, as she tried to stand her ground.

"Baby Girl," he opened her arms. "Come here."

All she could do was blink and wonder if he could hear her heartbeat pounding through her ribcage.

"Come on Sweetness, you know I don't bite," he couldn't keep the glint out of his eyes, as her eyebrows shot up and she blushed a deep red.

"Morgan," she pouted, deciding to step around the couch and keep her distance. "What are you doing here?"

He shook his head and chuckled at her avoidance. "Making you dinner."

 _Dinner?_ It was then she smelt it, and oh how her mouth watered. If she wasn't already embarrassed she would have cried. He had cooked her favorite meal and her heart burst a little more at how much he knew her. Hell, Kevin still forgot she was a vegetarian.

"Eggplant parmigiana?" she smiled up at him.

"15 more minutes," he turned around to stir the sauce, and she had to peel her eyes off of him. Feeling ashamed for ogling her best friend.

Grabbing a throw pillow she placed it on her lap, gripping it for dear life as she tried to maintain any semblance of control. Switching her TV on she opted to flip through the channels, though after about five minutes of playing cat and mouse, she gave up and just watched him.

He had turned on some soft R&B music and was slowly swaying his hips as he continued to get their dinner ready. " _Has cooking always been this sexy?"_ Penelope wondered and then giggled, when she thought about grabbing herself a bib to collect her own drool. Audibly gasping when he suddenly turned around and winked at her for being caught staring.

The rest of the evening continued in a similar manner, and it wasn't until her third glass of wine and a full belly, that she had calmed down enough to enjoy herself. She was perched on the couch while Derek sat on the floor next to her, her feet resting on his lap.

He was holding the blue nail polish and was finishing up with her other foot. This was a secret she had sworn a soul she would never tell and she would gladly take to her grave. Sipping her wine, she was reminded of the first time he had offered to paint her toes. It was right after Battle and she had been struggling to paint them herself when he came into the bedroom without saying a word, put her feet on his lap and painted them for her. She had sat there in complete awe, and it wasn't until he finished that he explained he used to do this for his younger sister when she was upset. Of course, he had quickly added that he never painted with sparkles or pinks, and she could only roll her eyes and laugh.

"There," he capped the polish and inspected her feet. "How's it look, Mama?"

Lifting her feet, she moved them back and forth and smiled. "Thank you, Cupcake!"

Morgan snickered at that, having eaten half a batch already. "Did you even save any ingredients at JJ's house?"

Penelope was just about to respond when he pressed his thumb into the arch of her foot and all she could do was moan in approval. As much as she loved fashion, her feet hated her for it.

"Oh Hot Stuff, the things you do to me," it took a moment for her eyes to widen at her implication and her hand flew to her mouth. _Easy on the wine, Garcie!_ She started to take her foot away when he grabbed onto her calf, eyes never leaving hers as he dared her to move her leg.

Relaxing back into the couch, she waited to see what he would do. It wasn't long till he started to massage her foot. She could only sit there and allow herself to just feel as he rubbed the tension away. Closing her eyes her mind conjured up what else he could relieve in her, and her face broke into a grin.

Though the moment he encircled the backs of her feet and parted her legs, she lost all sense of humor. Feeling him shift to his knees in front of her, she kept her eyes closed, biting her lips in anticipation.

Time seemed to slink by like molasses as he started to rub her calf. His big hands, calloused from working on the houses he renovated during his spare time, dug gently but firmly into her soft flesh. By the time his hands reached her knee cap, underneath the tight scarlet pencil skirt, her eyes were clenched shut.

Then he took her right leg, and placed it on his shoulder. Her fingers were digging into the couch as she tried to remember how to breathe.

"Baby Girl," his voice drifted to her. "Look at me."

He kissed the side of her knee and she gasped.

"Look at me, Penelope" his gruff voice demanded her attention, and she couldn't help but to obey.

Opening her eyes she realized her skirt was bunched around her thighs, her green glasses had slipped down her nose and as she peered over them, she was reminded of a lion closing in on his prey. _And boy, did she want him to devour her!_ She had never seen his eyes so dark, and as they stared at each other, she could sense his restraint was slowly slipping away.

"Keep them open," and as he kissed her leg again, his tongue darting below her knee cap, she got the message loud and clear.

Bending her leg closer to her body, he kept his attention fully on her, as he suctioned his lips to the back of her knee, alternating between sucking and nibbling on her flesh. _Who knew her legs were so sensitive?_

Switching to her other leg, he repeated the process and by the time he took his full lips and started kissing up her inner thigh, she thought she was going to burst into flames. Dragging her skirt up further, smiling as he exposed the purple see-through thong. Penelope could only blush, all the lights were on after all and he was still fully clothed.

The weight of insecurity started to take over and she began to close her legs, only to have him growl and snap both her legs open and back until they reached her elbows. The heels of her feet resting on the edge of the couch.

"What did I say?" the look he was giving her, caused her insides to clench.

"Derek," she pleaded, not knowing what she needed, but begging for some sort of relief from the ache he had built inside of her.

Slowly sliding one hand down her thigh and towards her center, he took his knuckle and lightly rubbed it down her sex. She was already sensitive and nearly flew off the couch and knocked him over. Having expected that reaction, he was barely fazed.

Bringing his hand back up, he placed his thumb directly against her bundle of nerves. He circled it once, and then stopped, firmly putting pressure on it.

"You didn't answer your phone, Baby Girl," she was panting for breath, and he was waiting for an answer.

He circled his thumb again, it was all together too much and not enough.

"I've been calling you all day," he had stopped again, his eyes so dark his irises had disappeared.

"I - I…Derek…Please," she didn't even make sense to herself.

Taking his middle finger, he slowly pushed the thong into her center, smirking when her heat seeped out. She would have blushed if her body wasn't craving for more.

"Next time you should answer," he plunged his finger fully inside of her, and her body almost collapsed on itself.

"I'm sorry, Derek…" she whimpered, hell - she would beg. "Next time, I'll answer. I swear."

Raising his eyebrow, he seemed pleased. Though to her dismay he slid his finger out of her and reached for the next button at the top of her blouse. He had just flicked the first one open, revealing the swells of her breasts, when the harsh knock at the door stopped him.

"Penny!" came Lynch's booming voice.

Garcia sat up, her body flushing from hot too cold in an instant. She was about to shoo Derek off when he flicked the next button open, the top of her blouse falling apart to reveal the matching balconette bra.

"Oh come on Plum Sauce!" he whined through the door. "I see Ember out front, I know you're here!" She had to roll her eyes and even Derek chuckled softly, at Kevin's slip up with Esther.

Though the moment was brief. Leaning forward he latched on to the top of her breast, his intention of marking her had Penelope whimpering with need and grabbing the back of his head.

"Derek," she whispered. Whether she wanted him to stop or continue, she had no idea.

He made it easy for her. Running his hand down her side, he gripped her hip, pulling her closer to him. A moment later, he had his finger back at her entrance, barely sliding it in. Slowly circling the wetness, she had to bite her lip from screaming out.

"Penny-kins! I'm sorry!" obviously getting impatient, Kevin began to rattle the doorknob. "Please, open the door."

Penelope glanced down at Derek, she hadn't even realized he had taken one of her breasts out. Her nipples were taught, craving his attention. As the knocks on her door grew louder, Derek began slowly tracing his tongue across her peak, glancing up at her, he gently bit the tip.

To be continued…


	3. III

**A/N Criminal Minds is not mine, I'm still only borrowing them. Thanks once again to everyone who is reading, and who has either favorited, followed or reviewed. The support is greatly appreciated. This flashback got a little carried away from me, and even had me blushing – hopefully it's not too long, we'll just blame my muse!**

 **Warning: Strong Sexual Themes**

 **Please, enjoy!**

 **Lunar Cocoon**

Chapter III:

Penelope's body was still achingly thrumming with arousal while her heart, plagued with remorse, was left shattered into a million pieces.

Having tossed and turned all night, she gave up on finding sleep and stared up at her ceiling instead, where the sparsely scattered glow-in-the-dark stars offered only a little bit of comfort. It didn't help that she could still taste him on her lips. The mint of her toothpaste unable to mask the sweet and spicy essence that was Derek Morgan.

Bringing her hand up to her breast, she gently ran her thumb over her nipple. The lightly bruised and chafed peak was a reminder of what occurred in her living room. Not wanting to stroll down memory lane, she grabbed her pillow and flipped over once more only for her bare legs to get twisted in her lavender and fuchsia comforter.

Sitting up with a growl, she yanked on the blanket until she was finally free – flinging it across the room, only for it to hit her dresser and knock over several perfume bottles. Crossing her legs and resting her elbows on her knees, she dug the palm of her hands into her eyes – willing the hot tears to stay put.

The rustling at the foot of her bed, brought her back from her tantrum. Swiping her cheeks she finally looked up at the cause of her distress. He was holding a glass – of what she knew to be warm milk, in one hand and her comforter in the other.

Standing there shirtless, her eyes feasted on his toned stomach – her fingers itching to touch his abs and pepper them with kisses.

Then her brain kicked in from the lust filled haze, and her sore heart seized.

 _Kevin._

* * *

_ _Flashback_ _

The moment his tongue traced her nipple, she felt a rush of wetness pool between her thighs.

Watching his eyes sparkle with mischief, she internally groaned as that familiar cocky smirk graced his lips. She was already tingling with anticipation, and then he flashed her his teeth. Biting down on the tip, he gently and then roughly tugged it closer to him, before latching on to it. His warm, wet mouth causing a shudder to ripple through her body.

"Penny!" Kevin's voice was a distant tether to her reality. One she had no desire to return to.

Not when her core was heated like a furnace, demanding release.

Derek's finger, which was still circling her entrance, gathered her thong once more and plunged it fully inside of her. The lace material against her swollen inner lips had her bucking off the couch, causing him to place his muscled arm across her belly as he forced her back into the cushions.

Her breath hitched when he slid one long finger out of her slowly – only to insert two more, stretching her without warning.

The doorknob rattled again and the knocks increased – though all it did was encourage Morgan, his intent to make her cum right there. Twice rather, to make her forget about that weasel of a boyfriend.

He released her nipple, the wet pop, making her clench around his fingers.

"You didn't answer his phone either," Derek's voice was gruff and demanding. "You've been very naughty, Baby Girl."

 _Naughty_? She had never been more turned on in her whole life. She was downright, sinning.

"I…Derek…" she could only pant. Then he crooked his fingers, and grazed that oh-so-fucking-good spot, that Cosmopolitan has been harping about for years and what she used to believe was a myth. "Oh, fuck!" her head snapped back, as he relentlessly continued the motion.

Her body was thrumming and she was mumbling to herself, not knowing what she needed.

 _More_. She needed more.

Losing the last bits of her control, she began to rock against his hand. Seeming to sense what she was craving, he tapped the bundle of nerves and she moaned.

"Come on Pumpkin! I overreacted!" Kevin whined through the door. "Let me in please, I don't want your neighbors to see me!"

Derek growled, and brought the arm from around her belly to the back of her neck – forcing her forward as he speared her mouth with his tongue, while the rough pad of his thumb circled her swollen nub…and then it happened.

The tingling heat that had gathered low in her gut and seeped out her core, caused her body to clench, as she convulsed around his hand. _Oh my, my…God_! The sensation ripped through her like a freight train and had her seeing stars. She had no idea sex could be like this. She thought that night in Alaska was a fluke, but obviously Derek was determined to prove her wrong.

It was only as her idled mind returned from bliss, that she momentarily realized that the knocking had ceased – though Derek didn't allow her to dwell.

Still quivering, he reached around her waist and pulled her off the couch to sit on top of him. His fingers – still buried deep inside her, drew her climax out only to wind her back up again.

Her legs were spread and resting against the outside of his legs. Her blouse was wide open and her bra was pushed below her breasts, framing them beautifully. Penelope's skin was prickling with fire, and she should have been embarrassed of the wet streak that would soon be on his jeans – if she wasn't on the verge of another earth-shattering orgasm.

Bringing his legs up, he pushed her forward and further onto his hand. Rubbing his middle finger over that sensitive patch of nerves deep within her, forcing her to bite her lip to prevent her from screaming out his name.

One of her hands had grasped onto his shoulder, her purple nails digging into his skin, while her other hand clasped around his shirt – dragging it away from him as she held on for dear life.

Everything was too sensitive, lifting her hips she tried to get away.

"Oh no you don't Mama," reaching up he pinched a nipple and tugged it closer to him, causing her to lean forward and groan as she was forced back down. "You're going to cum again for me, Penelope."

He rarely used her first name and hearing his husky voice drawl out every syllable had her whimpering with need. She undulated her hips, grinding against his hand – searching for her next release.

It didn't take long.

Derek smirked as he felt her body begin to surge, all the while coaxing her with dirty words that had her blushing from her head down to her toes.

He rolled her nipple and pressed his thumb hard against her clit, as his index and middle finger rubbed back and forth against each other – creating a friction that ignited her once more.

 _Oh, sweet heavens_! Was her last coherent thought.

Shattering, she couldn't help the scream that flew past her lips. Her back arched and she convulsed. Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her body as she quaked and jerked against his hand.

Exhausted she collapsed on top of him, her head resting in the crook of his neck – seeking comfort as he peppered her jaw with light kisses, his hand rubbing circles on her back.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but she had no desire to move. Then her phone rang. And rang. And rang again. Until finally the answering machine picked up. Kevin's dejected voice filling her apartment.

"Penny, its Kevin. I came by, but…I don't know, maybe you stepped out for a minute. I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry. I hate arguing with you, okay Plum Sauce. You know I love you, right…" Penelope froze, sitting up – still straddling Derek's waist.

Guilt reared its ugly head as nausea consumed her. Panicking, she pushed off of him and ran to the bathroom, barely making it as she vomited. Any trace of arousal was washed away as the hot tears streamed down her face and mixed with the acidic taste that burnt her throat.

" _Oh, Garcie! What did you do_?" the thought speared her heart, crippling her against the porcelain as she emptied her stomach once more. The bitter taste of wine and pasta adding to her misery.

When her breathing finally settled a glass of water appeared in front of her, which she gratefully accepted. Swishing the water in her mouth, she almost choked before spitting it out as Derek walked passed her – completely nude, to turn the shower on. Even the shame couldn't help the blush that flamed her cheeks as she forced her eyes away from his firm bare ass.

As the steam filled the room, he walked back towards her – and even though she was still dripping wet from moments before, she couldn't help but to look away. Not wanting to damage this friendship any more, she quickly turned to get out of the bathroom.

Though he was quicker.

Shutting the door in her face, his arm shot out next to her head, effectively blocking her between him and the door. His other hand gripped her hip – his thumb sliding back and forth as he tried to calm her nerves.

"Derek, I can't," her voice – barely above a whisper.

His hand slowly moved up underneath her blouse, his thumb gently tracing the indent of her spine until his hand rested at the base of her neck. "I'm not asking you for anything, Baby Girl."

He applied gentle pressure to the smooth milky column, helping to relieve the tension that had gathered between her shoulder blades. Waiting until her body relaxed, he slowly gathered her blouse and dragged it off her shoulders and down her arms. The combination of the silk, the heat of the shower and her frozen soul had her shivering in response.

"I'm going to clean you up, and you're going to bed," she felt him lean forward and kiss the center of her back – and then her shoulders, as his fingers twisted around the clasp of her bra, unhooking it and letting it fall to the floor.

Then his hands moved to her skirt – pulling the zipper down, only to stop once again to give the exposed flesh of her lower back some kisses as he rolled the material over her hips, letting it join the other garments at her feet.

Penelope felt lost. Part of her wanted to scream and throw things – yell at him to get out, while the other part of her – the emotionally distraught and utterly exhausted part, she wanted him to scoop her up into his arms and let her cry. So instead she stood there, trying not to think as the knot of anxiety seeped into her bones, and festered like an illness.

His hand – cupping her round and perky ass, snapped her back to reality. Biting her lip, as he ran his thumb underneath the top string of her thong.

"Do you trust me," his normally confident voice held a lilt of trepidation, and it was that vulnerability that had her nodding her head in acquiescence. All she wanted to do was curl into a ball and forget how fucked up she was, but the heat of the shower and his comforting voice was just as inviting.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled off her thong and turned around. She hadn't expected him to step forward, eyes never leaving hers as he reached behind her and gently loosened her hair from the elastic. He was ever the gentleman, never glancing down to gape at her breasts, he just reached out his hand and led her to the shower.

She shouldn't be disappointed with his lack of interest, but the devil on her shoulder prodded her mind with doubt and insecurity. Of course he didn't want to look at her. Hell, she didn't even like to look at herself in the mirror.

Stepping beneath the water, she tried to drown out her thoughts, only to have the strawberry aroma fill her senses as he poured a handful of the shampoo into the palm of his hand. He softly lathered it into her hair, massaging her scalp.

His gentle affection felt undeserved, especially with Kevin's words still ringing in her ears. Her chest tightened and her stomach coiled again, and all she could do was sob – and sob she did. His strong arms wrapped around her waist was the only thing keeping her upright, binding her to reality while the feelings washed over her and then subsided – leaving her numb.

Holding the pink loofah he scrubbed her body, stopping frequently to coo soothing words into her ears. As time ticked by her mind slowly submerged from the darkness – his attention to her needs urging her back to him. Turning around in his arms, she couldn't stop her eyes from dropping below his waist.

 _Good lord_.

Standing before her, was her very own Greek God. She thought he wasn't interested, but the powerful erection jutting towards her, had her blushing with pride. Every muscle in his body was straining with tension, and the tight smile he gave her was proof of how much he was trying to maintain control. " _Her Hot Stuff always the protector"_ , she thought – putting her needs before his own.

She knew his body was begging for release and wanting to focus on something else besides her soon to be single status, she decided to return the favor. Besides, it wouldn't be fair to make anyone else suffer tonight.

Shutting her mind off she reached forward, wrapping her hand around the top of his shaft, shocked to discover that she was unable able to close her hand around him.

"Penelope," his guttural tone was no nonsense, though he needn't worry – she wasn't teasing.

Running her thumb along the tip, she applied pressure as she tapped the slit – eyes widening as pre-cum leaked out and over her hand.

Squeezing firmly as she ran her hand slowly down to the base and back up again, she enjoyed the power she felt at having this dominating, alpha male at her mercy. One of his hands was clenched into a fist, while the other was spread against the wall behind her head.

Feeling more confident that he was receiving pleasure, her actions became bolder.

Taking her other hand she lifted his sac, rolling the heavy weight in her palm. Squeezing lightly she watched his eyes dilate and his nostrils flare. Smirking – she applied more pressure.

"Fuck," he groaned, eyes clamping shut.

"Uh-uh Hot Stuff," she teased – running her nail across the tip, causing his hand to shoot forward and grip her ass as his fingers dug into her soft flesh. "Derek…look at me."

His eyes opened, the dark depths flashing before her. Leaning forward she licked her tongue across his collarbone, nibbling softly into his shoulder – sucking the wet, heated flesh into her mouth.

Gripping his rigid length, she ran her hand firmly up and down, picking up a rhythm that had him thrusting back towards her. Squeezing his sac, she bit into his shoulder and his body convulsed. Spraying the sticky fluid across her belly. Rubbing her thumb gently over the sensitive flesh beneath the tip, she watched him float back down to earth.

Leaning forward he dropped his forehead to rest on hers. Staring up at him, she was shocked to see complete adoration – and something unfamiliar looking back at her. He brought his hand to her face, rubbing his thumb across her chin he lifted it and kissed her. It was gentle and brief and before she could grab the back of his head and deepen it, he had resumed cleaning her body.

Turning back around, she closed her eyes and stuck her head under the water.

_ _End of Flashback_ _

* * *

Kevin, her boyfriend.

 _And the worst-girlfriend-of-the-year award, goes to you Garcie_!

Derek walked over and held out the glass of milk. She only stared at it.

"Drink it," he muttered, sitting down next to her – hand wrapping around the inside of her thigh, right below her Minnie Mouse nightgown. "It will help."

She hated that he knew her so well – that warm milk was the secret remedy to calm her nightmares. It was something Penelope's mother had used to do when she was a little girl. Kevin never remembered, but Derek did.

After they had gotten out of the shower earlier, he had delicately dried her off and brought over her favorite nightgown, waiting for her to put it on. Not wanting to go to sleep, she pulled on the top of his sweats to drag him over for a kiss. Stopping her, he clasped her wrists in one of his hands, and shook his head. " _Bed, Baby Girl_ ," had been his only instruction.

Her heart clenched as her body flushed with anger. Yanking her hands away she pushed him aside, throwing the old cotton gown on and jumping into bed as she shut the light off, dowsing them in darkness. She had wanted him to leave, but knew he had slept on the couch instead.

Grabbing the glass, she quickly drank it and thrust it back at him – laying back down, she turned away from him. She heard him shake the comforter out above her, and it slowly landed over her body.

Thinking he was going back to her couch, she was surprised when he slid in next to her. She started to scoot away, when his arm wrapped around her waist and dragged her back to him – resting his hand beneath her breast. Her back was flush with his front and he pressed a leg between hers, bending it until his thigh was beneath her center.

She huffed, blowing loose hair away from her face. _Sleep_. Of course that's what he wanted. Minutes later his soft snores drifted over her head and the calming rhythm lulled her body to relax, and she too joined him in slumber.

* * *

Not yet fully awake, Penelope rolled over – sliding her hand up only to discover cold sheets.

 _He was gone_.

The thought made her keep her eyes closed as her ears strained to hear him in the other room, only to be greeted by silence.

She felt tears gather in the corners of her eyes, which were puffy and sore.

 _No Garcie! You are not going to cry today!_

Sitting up she headed towards the bathroom, ignoring the shower as she took care of her morning business. Emerging several minutes later, she headed to the kitchen to make a strong cup of coffee – only to stop in her tracks.

Sitting on the couch, leaning forward with his hands clasped over his knees – sat Kevin.

"Hello, Plum Sauce," his smile didn't reach his eyes, and warning bells went off in her head at his exuberance.

"Kevin?" she crossed her arms in front of her – wishing she had grabbed her robe since she felt exposed underneath the thin cotton of her nightgown. "How did you-…"

"Get in here?" he finished for her. Leaning forward he picked the gold key off the coffee table. "I remembered you gave your neighbor an extra key in case of emergencies." He slipped the key back into his pocket. "It didn't take much to convince her to give it to me. She thinks were just the cutest… _couple_ , after all."

"Kevin, I was-…"

"Too busy with Derek, last night," he stood up, throwing his arms out – gesturing towards the two sets of plates and wine glasses.

Her face flushed with panic, and then paled. Flustered, she tried to think of what to say.

"Nothing happened," she mumbled. _Great, she was a cheater and a liar_!

"Which time," he snarled, taking a few steps closer to her. "Last night…or when you shared a room, in Alaska?"

To be continued…


	4. IV: I

**A/N I don't own Criminal Minds. Sorry for the delay, but I give you guys two Chapters!**

 **Please, enjoy!**

 **Lunar Cocoon**

Chapter IV: Part I

Grabbing the troll doll off of her desk, he rubbed his hands through the rough, bright pink hair as he spun around in her office chair. She hadn't come into work this morning, having called off – something she rarely did, and he couldn't help but to feel responsible.

Besides Alaska, Sunday had been such a pivotal moment between them. Granted, he would have preferred her not to be so upset over Lynch, but he had wanted to make his presence in her life known. Taking the opportunity to show her, _again_ …that he didn't want to only be her Hot Stuff anymore – he wanted to be her everything.

Springing forward from the chair, he sat bolt upright. _Everything_? Derek knew what that meant, if the constant ache in his chest was any indication. He needed to get out of her lair, standing up he tossed the troll onto her desk, only to quickly grab it and put it back neatly – he didn't have a death wish after all, only to spin around and barge right into Prentiss.

"Whoa, easy there Morgan!" her hand shooting up to his shoulder to steady him. Looking around and noticing the empty office, she frowned. "Oh, I thought Garcia was in?"

Derek shook his head and tried to sidestep around her and get through the door.

"Hey," her voice becoming more serious, moving her head closer to get him to look at her. "You ok?"

Before he could even decide on what to say, Prentiss spoke for him. "I'll take that as a no," walking towards the door, she waited until he followed her. "Are you caught up with paper work?"

Derek raised a brow, and followed her out into the bullpen.

"Yeah, me neither," she grumbled, then glared at him when he headed towards his office. "Hey, come on."

Derek frowned, hesitating for a moment, but deciding to follow. It wasn't until they were in the elevator and she had pushed the button for the basement, that he gave her the smallest of smiles.

He found himself almost an hour later, after having run full force on the treadmill and lifting the heaviest of weights, inside a makeshift ring, surrounded by mats. They had been circling each other for the past twenty minutes, while Emily threw punches into the mitts he was holding up.

She was wearing black leggings and a matching loose tank top, hair sticking to the back of her neck and forehead, as she rocked back and forth on her toes with her reddened face and focused gaze.

"How come Garcia's not here," she swung, knocking Morgan's hand back with a loud whack.

Morgan glared, dodging her next punch and quickly circling behind her. "Sick, I guess."

"Bullshit!" spinning on her heels, she swung again, with a little more aggression. Morgan could only roll his eyes – though he wouldn't deny that he was proud, of how protective the BAU was of Garcia. She was truly one of kind. Speaking of his Goddess his mind conjured up the image of her writhing above him, head rolled back as her body covered his hand with her essence.

Emily noticed the far off look in his eyes and took advantage, hitting him with two swift punches. Smiling, she laughed as he slipped on the mats, catching himself before he took a tumble.

"Damn it!" he swore, righting himself as he made sure to block his face. A pissed off Prentiss was not something he was in the mood for.

"Why isn't…" _whack,_ "Garcia…" _whack_ , "Here?" _whack!_ With each solid punch she had forced Morgan off the mats.

Looking down, he found himself breathing hard trying his best to tamp down his anger.

Emily arched her manicured brow, noticing his flared nostrils and slumped shoulders. Biting the strap on her gloves she ripped the Velcro off, tossing them on the floor as she reached for her water bottle.

After taking a few swigs, and watching Morgan getting ready to put on his gloves, she decided to just come out with it.

"JJ and I were next to you two," Expecting his look of confusion, she took another sip before clarifying. "In Alaska."

Derek froze, eyes clamping shut, not able to meet her gaze.

"Oh Baby Girl…" Emily moaned, the glint in her eyes showing how much she was enjoying watching Morgan squirm. "Right… _there_!"

"Prentiss!" he groaned through gritted teeth.

"Hey! You two kept us up all night," she laughed. "I thought we were going to have to pay for the damage to that headboard."

Derek felt his face heat, and if his complexion was any lighter he would bet that it would be at least ten shades of red.

"How much…did you-…" he mumbled, not wanting to ask.

"Hear?" cupping the palm of her hand around her ear plus the wicked glint in her eyes told him everything.

"Fuck," sitting down on the bench next to him, he reached for a towel, wiping the sweat off his face as he tried to process the new information.

"That's the operative word," she quipped, sitting down on the mat across from him. "I mean at least we know you're not a hit it and quit it kind of guy, and that you can last all night…and morning too."

"Emily!" he started throwing stuff into his gym bag.

"That was the last one, I swear," it was quiet for a few moments as they both sat there. Swirling the bottle of water around, she asked again. "Derek?" the change in her tone made him look up at her.

"She's with Lynch."

* * *

Adjusting the yellow cashmere sweater once more, Penelope took a sip of some orange juice, needing something other than the champagne to stop her head from pounding. Stabbing the food on her plate, she tried to listen to the conversation around her.

She was still feeling a little under the weather but Kevin had insisted that they meet his parents and two brothers for brunch. Having to call off work to eat salmon cakes and eggs benedict seemed ridiculous, but not wanting to anger him further, she had conceded with his plans.

However, after spending the last hour listening to Kevin's father, Lenard – a physician, who seemed to have Spencer Reid's social skills and childlike wonder – she found that she was actually enjoying herself, well at least with half of her boyfriend's family.

"So Kevin told us that you work entirely with the BAU, is that right Penelope?" Lenard asked, his warm brown eyes and toothy grin, helped Garcia feel somewhat relaxed in the staunch environment.

"I work for them too," Kevin eagerly added, though when no one seemed impressed, he took a bite of eggs. "Sometimes," he muttered.

"Yes, that's right," deciding to nibble on a bread roll, she smiled up at him. "I'm their technical analyst."

"It must be hard, seeing all those things on your computer screens." Eric, the tallest and fittest of the three brothers, seemed to be genuinely concerned.

Penelope, though nearsighted wasn't blind to how attractive he was. His dark hair was slicked back and his white shirt was rolled up to his elbows, revealing a serpent tattoo. It was intricately wrapped around his forearm – and though she thought it was an interesting choice, she had to admit she loved lions a lot more.

The man who she had tried to save in Alaska flashed in her mind, blanching at the thought, she reached for her flute of champagne and tried to guzzle it down as Lady-like as she could. Dabbing her mouth with a napkin, she managed a sheepish smile as Kevin's mother arched a brow in her direction.

"Penny, dear," the silvery voice of Mary Lynch interrupted her thoughts. Her mousy brown hair was pinned back into a tight bun at the base of her neck and the white streak over her bangs, reminded Penelope of a certain childhood puppy snatcher. "Would you like something else to eat?" raising a fork and waving it at her, indicating her still full plate. "Or are you on a diet?"

Before she could even reply, Kevin – who for some strange reason was actually wearing a shirt, not patterned but dark blue and a tie that matched, spoke up for her with a mouth full of eggs. "Oh, my Plum Sauce is a vegetarian mother," shoveling an even bigger bite into his mouth, only to have some fall out and onto his lap.

"Oh!" came her clipped reply, her crinkled smile not quite reaching her eyes as she glared at him from across the table. At the same time his brothers, Lewis and Eric, chortled at Penelope's nick name. "Plum Sauce!" they hooted, as Kevin glared across the table.

"A diet would be good for a lady of your stature," Mary quickly piped up, as she daintily cut off a small piece of salmon "I mean if you guys are going to have children, your weight might pose a health risk, Penny."

"You always did pick the ones on the curvy side, didn't you Kev?" leered Lewis. He was leaning back in his chair, his eyes falling once again on her cleavage, making Penelope wish she had worn a turtle neck instead of her colorful sundress.

"I think she's find just the way she is," Eric's husky voice came to her defense and Penelope blushed slightly, not used to the special attention.

"Well she started a diet a few times," Kevin scowled at his brother and lifted her hand where he held it tightly tucked into his lap and gave it a kiss. "But she has a problem with discipline," his fingers dug into her skin, and Penelope had to bite her lip from crying out.

"Why plum?" snickered Lewis, he was the oldest and the shortest brother. His blonde hair was uncombed and covered half of his acne scarred face. His shirt was way too small and stained, and Penelope willed her eyes away from staring at the button over his beer gut, wondering when it was going to pop off. "Why not Cranberry?"

"Or apple?" Eric innocently winked at her as he poured himself some more champagne.

"Well because Plum's are my favorite!" Kevin responded defensively. Leaning towards Penelope, he tried to kiss her lips only to miss since she had turned suddenly, pecking the side of her face instead.

Lewis leaned closer, making a show of staring at her chest and chortled "More like cantaloupes!"

Garcia wanted to crawl into a ball and disappear. Her face was red with embarrassment and though she promised she wouldn't cry, she could feel the tears begin to resurface. Blinking rapidly, she took a swig of champagne, hoping Kevin would help her out only to be saved by his mother instead.

"Boys…behave," standing up Mary looked at Penelope. "Why don't you help me with some dessert?"

Penelope stood up quickly, grateful to get away from the Lynch men, only for Kevin to grab her arm and roughly pull her onto his lap. Cupping her face in his hands, he gave her an open mouth kiss as he tried to jam his tongue into her mouth. Trying to push him away her elbow knocked over a glass, and it shattered as it hit the floor. Though even that didn't stop him.

His hand reached around to the back of her neck, gripping her hair as he yanked her closer. Her hands were splayed across his chest, fingers digging into his shoulders…until finally he stopped.

"Kevin!" her voice was shrill as she jumped off of him, completely shocked at his behavior.

He had her pink lipstick smeared across his lips and using the back of his hand he wiped it off, the anger bristling behind his eyes causing her to step back.

* * *

"He…took the day off too?" Prentiss asked, eyebrows raised in confusion.

"Yep," pulling his shirt off, Morgan shoved it into his bag as he dug around for a clean one.

Emily stared at him. She wasn't great at this whole gossiping thing, but she cared for both Derek and Penelope and damn it – he wasn't making this easy for her! "I didn't know you two were friends."

"We're not!" he growled, yanking the bag onto his lap as he had to dig deeper to find his shirt.

"Then…" waving her arms in the air, she huffed with irritation. "How do you know she's with him?"

"I saw them," finding his shirt, he threw it on quickly.

Emily stood up fast, sensing he was on the verge of bolting. "But…where?" she took a few steps forward. "Did you see them…at work? Which doesn't make sense since they called off," her use of air quotes was awkward and such a Penelope-thing to do that it made Derek stop for a moment, needing to calm his breathing since he felt like the walls were starting to cave in on him.

"At her house, Emily," putting the strap of the bag over his shoulder he stared her down, though being on a team full of profilers, he should honestly know better. "Anything else?"

When she didn't say anything, he picked up his water bottle and headed towards the door. He was almost out of the room, when her voice once again, stopped him in his tracks.

"Did you tell her you're in love with her?" her voice was faint, but he heard her loud and clear.

He stood there frozen – his body thrumming with tension.

Then he stormed out, leaving Prentiss with more questions than answers.

* * *

"Come on Penny," Mary cajoled her from the kitchen archway. "The pie isn't going to serve itself, my dear."

Penelope took a moment to fix the skirt of her dress then grabbed a napkin on the way out to wipe off her smeared lipstick.

The Lynch's didn't own a mansion like Rossi, but the double story house was still very huge and eloquently put together. The marble countertops and beautifully varnished hard wood floors, had Penelope perplexed as to how Lynch came to dress and act the way he did. Though she had yet to find the courage to ask such a question in front of his family.

Meeting Mary at the center island, where a variety of desserts were organized on silver serving platters, Penelope had to stifle a giggle when she thought of what Mary would look like surrounded by her beloved clutter of trinkets crossed her mind.

Still looking at the cakes while she was walking, she almost ran smack into Mary – who had turned around abruptly. Her back was straight and rigid, and Garcia found herself feeling like a disobedient child about to get lectured as her steel grey eyes smoldered with anger.

"Would it kill you, Penny, to act like you're enjoying yourself," gathering the expensive China plates, Mary swiftly started to plop desserts onto them. "I mean Kevin has been nothing but gracious to you, and you haven't even smiled once."

"I…I'm sorry…It's just I don't feel-…" she knew she was fumbling with her words, but was cut off before she could even defend herself.

"Excuses are not tolerated, _Penelope_ ," Mary handed her two plates, eyes slightly widening when Garcia's sweater lifted from her wrist, revealing the ugly blue and purple bruise. "There's some ointment in the upstairs bathroom. Down the hall, third door on the right." Taking the plates back she walked past her and back out to the dining room.

Penelope turned to watch her leave, only to be met with Eric resting against the counter, a warm smile on his face.

"Come on, I'll show you the way."

Derek sat in his office, the files he had put atop his desk still remained untouched. He felt like an ass for snapping at Prentiss, especially when he knew she was only trying to help. Though his ego was still battered and he wasn't in the mood for sharing just how much Penelope had ruined his week, and it was only Monday.

He glanced at his phone – for the umpteenth time in the last hour, disappointed to see there were no new text messages. Staring at it, he quickly picked it up – _maybe she emailed him_?

No. Nothing. He didn't have one single new alert. Tossing the phone back down, he rested his head in his hands, squeezing the ridge of his nose. He was going to give himself a migraine if he kept this up.

Reaching for his coffee, he went to take a swig, only to be met with an empty mug. Growling, he slammed the mug back on his desk, only to miss and for it to bounce off the carpet. Not in the mood to clean up another mess, he was grateful that it didn't break. _Thank God they didn't have a case_ – he had never felt more scatter brained.

Leaning back in his chair he closed his eyes, instantly regretting it when Penelope – still sleeping soundly next to him, flashed in his mind.

Needing to calm his nerves – or maybe he was a masochist at heart, either way, he allowed himself to relive the moment.

* * *

_ _Flashback: Sunday Morning_ _

Her bedroom was lit up with a beautiful purple hue as the sun started to peek through her curtains. Being an insomniac by nature, Derek of course woke up before Penelope.

His heart had never felt so light, with her snuggled up in his arms. They were facing each other, her head resting on his bicep – silky red hair flared out around her creating a halo of curls. She had one leg slightly bent over his leg and her arm was tightly tucked over his waist.

Face bare of makeup, he greedily took the opportunity to memorize her features. From her cute pointy nose to her full plump lips, and the cute little beauty mark above her eye. His hand was underneath her nightgown, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against her bare hip – fearing she would disappear the moment he let her go.

He could have stayed like that all morning – hell the rest of the day, if his stomach hadn't gurgled. He found himself momentarily embarrassed, until he noticed she was still asleep. Feeling ridiculously silly he slowly eased himself away from her. Making sure to tuck her back in, and to place a pillow underneath her arms. She whimpered softly at the loss of contact only to nestle further into the bed, her light snoring filling the air around him – proof that he was in the clear.

Slowly padding into the kitchen, he searched for something to eat. Ten minutes later he was disappointed to come up with only packets of strawberry oatmeal, some left over tofu and a few spoiled oranges. _Oh, that woman!_ He would speak to her later about keeping better food in the house, hell he would drag her shopping if he had too.

He had wanted to make her breakfast and though he wasn't the best cook, he had learned a few things over the years. Spotting his jeans over her armchair, the idea hit him. Checking the red cat clock, with the swinging tail that hung over her oven, and deciding that he had plenty of time to rush down to her favorite bakery – which opened in twenty minutes, and stop at the little market next door and still be back in time to surprise her.

Having quickly changed, he went back into her bedroom, needing to see her before he left. Her bare leg was peeking out of the comforter, flashing him her blue toes and delicate ankles. Feeling his member begin to stir at the memory of her spread wide before him, he quietly walked over to her. Softly brushing her bangs back, he gave her a tender kiss atop her head.

_ _End of Flashback_ _

* * *

To be continued…

(And we'll find out what happened in Chapter III)


	5. IV: II

**A/N I don't own Criminal Minds, still only borrowing them. Hey look, here's the other chapter I promised! Sorry for the long wait, but I went back and tweaked this a little bit. Also look out for my next story, it should be out soon!**

 **Please, enjoy!**

 **Warning: Strong Themes (Deals with an assault type situation/ Please read with caution or skip over the flashback)**

 **Lunar Cocoon**

Chapter IV: Part II

Penelope found herself propped up on the wide marble counter in the upstairs bathroom. Having mentally calculated the space, quickly figuring out all the makeup and hair products she could keep in here, she tried not to be jealous – though it was hard considering the room was almost bigger than her own bedroom.

"I'm sorry he did this to you," Eric had rolled her sleeve up, and was softly rubbing some ointment onto her bruised skin.

Thinking back to yesterday morning, when she had found Kevin on her couch and the reason why he had been so upset – she was the one who had let someone else fuck her after all. She looked away ashamed, focusing on her green heels instead as they slightly swung back and forth.

"It looks worse than it is," she mumbled. His brows creased with concern and his piercing eyes, though grey like his mothers were bright and sincere, locked eyes with her. Swallowing her suddenly heavy tongue – honestly, she had to be allergic to lying considering how her body seemed to always react so negatively – she quickly shook her head. "It's fine, really."

Having finished with the cream, he lightly tapped her nose – it was such a Derek thing to do, that it caused her breath to hitch and her eyes to widen. Eric smiled at her, having enough sense to drop the topic, he slowly backed away. "Okay then," leaving her frozen to the spot he headed towards the door. "When you're ready, you should come down for some pie. It really is delicious."

Sitting there stunned, it took only a moment for her senses to consume her. Sliding off the counter, she rushed to the door – fumbling with the lock until it clicked. Leaning against the wood, she tried to calm her breathing.

 _Do not have a panic attack, Garcie_!

Clutching her chest as her heart constricted viciously, her fingers tangling around her small mermaid necklace – the one with the little sea shell charms, which had been a birthday gift from her Hot Stuff. Covering her mouth to muffle the sob, she let the tears pour down her face as she slid down to the floor.

The past twenty four hours finally catching up to her.

* * *

_ _Flashback: Sunday Morning_ _

Sitting on the couch, leaning forward with his hands clasped over his knees – sat Kevin.

"Hello, Plum Sauce," his smile didn't reach his eyes, and warning bells went off in her head at his exuberance.

"Kevin?" she crossed her arms in front of her – wishing she had grabbed her robe since she felt exposed underneath the thin cotton of her nightgown. "How did you-…"

"Get in here?" he finished for her. Leaning forward he picked the gold key off the coffee table. "I remembered you gave your neighbor an extra key in case of emergencies." He slipped the key back into his pocket. "It didn't take much to convince her to give it to me. She thinks were just the cutest… _couple_ , after all."

"Kevin, I was-…"

"Too busy with Derek, last night," he stood up, throwing his arms out – gesturing towards the two sets of plates and wine glasses.

Her face flushed with panic, and then paled. Flustered, she tried to think of what to say.

"Nothing happened," she mumbled. Great, she was a cheater and a liar!

"Which time," he snarled, taking a few steps closer to her. "Last night…or when you shared a room, in Alaska?"

"It wasn't like that," _Oh, but how it was_. Shaking her head and taking a few steps back, she slammed into the wall behind her.

Kevin was on her in an instant. "Don't lie to me Penny!"

"I…I'm not…" all she could think about was how Derek wasn't even there this morning. How could she find the courage to defend herself – when he didn't even have the decency to stay?

"Did you…did you…" not being able to say the vile words – knowing he wasn't one to often cuss, had her feeling even more miserable. She watched as he raked his hand through his hair, tugging on a few strands. "Did you have…sex…with _him_?"

She couldn't look him in the eyes, and yet, didn't have the heart to lie to him either. So instead she bit her quivering lip and stared at the floor as a few tears slid down her face – pitifully gathering at her chin, which she harshly wiped away.

"Oh…Penny!" he wailed, taking a step back. "You didn't!"

"I'm so…so…sorry!" she was hiccuping now, trying not to choke on her tears. She went to take a step towards him – desperation forcing her to make him to understand, only for him to surge forward backing her up against the wall.

"Oh Kevin, were just friends," he mimicked her voice, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, though there was no mistaking the anger that was brewing beneath the surface. "He's just my… _Hot Stuff_!" He punched the wall next to her head, with enough force to knock down several picture frames, causing a few to shatter as they bounced off the floor.

"Kevin!" she could barely whisper out, she was shaking with terror – she had never seen him this angry.

Grabbing the front of her nightgown he yanked it towards him, pulling the front down – making her hands instinctively fly up to cover herself, only to have him bat her arms away. Though to her surprise, he pushed her head back against the wall, resting his forehead against hers as he panted hot air into her face.

They stood like that for a few minutes. Neither of them speaking – he was trying to calm down, she was too scared to move.

"Don't you want to get married, Plum Sauce?" his voice was quiet, and she was beginning to feel claustrophobic, since one hand still gripped her gown while the other one boxed her into the wall as it rested above her shoulder.

"You know I do," she answered, honestly. _Just not to you_.

With both of them so engrossed in the moment, they hadn't noticed her front door opening and quietly closing behind them.

"I want to marry you…Penelope," his hand moved off the wall and covered her face, his thumb roughly rubbing the tears away beneath her eye. She turned her head away from him, only for him to snap it back. She could feel the moment shift, as his body tensed in front of her.

Sliding his hand to her shoulder, and then to her hip and back up again – gathering her gown as he went to cup her breast. Reacting, she tried to pull the gown over her exposed stomach, only for it to pull down too far. She felt him freeze, confused – she quickly glanced at his face.

He was staring at her chest, the corner of his mouth was curled – exposing a few of his front teeth. Following his gaze, her heart twisted as her stomach dropped.

Flashing like an indecent sign of adultery – marring her pale skin on the top of her breast, was a giant red hickey.

He tugged her gown down further, completely exposing her chest – she tried to push him away, only to let the tears fall again as he reached forward, rubbing his thumb over the bite mark across her nipple.

Stepping away from her, he gripped her wrist and yanked her towards the bedroom. Digging her bare feet into her carpet, she tried to pull away.

Though her mind was screaming at her, all she could do was whimper as her throat constricted with fear. His fingers dug cruelly into her wrist as she pushed at him again, only for him to wrap an arm around her waist and stomach – lifting her off the ground as he carried her through the beaded curtains to her bedroom.

He threw her onto the bed, placing a leg over her hips and pressing her down into the mattress as he tugged his jacket off.

"Kevin!" she cried out.

She flailed on the mattress, kicking her legs until she almost knocked him off. Though he reacted just as fast, grabbing the backs of her legs, he pried them apart until her knees touched her shoulders. Resting all his weight on her body – practically crushing her, as his face burrowed against her neck. Latching on to her skin of her shoulder, he sucked and nibbled while his hand once again delved under her gown, squeezing her breast.

The moment he bit down on the soft skin above her clavicle and pinched her nipple – she found her voice.

Screaming, she pushed against him, clawing his neck until she scratched his skin.

He snarled, grabbed her wrists, pinning them against her head. Staring at her, he froze – catching the look of terror in her eyes. Jumping up he practically flew off the bed as if he had burnt her.

Finally free, Penelope scurried off the other side of the bed as she tried to figure out where her cell phone was.

The strangled cry pulled her attention back across the room where Kevin stood, looking horrified of what he had done.

"Oh…Penny!" he howled. Holding his hands up, he walked slowly towards her – not having anywhere to run – she watched as he fell before her, wrapping his arms around her legs as he cried.

Her body was trembling as his tears soaked the front of her nightgown. Placing a hand on the top of his head, she barely registered his frantic apologies.

"I'm so sorry, Plum sauce…so, so sorry!" his strong hold of her body had her practically tipped over in half, gathering her in his arms 'til she was sitting on his lap, he rocked her back and forth. "I love you so much, please don't leave me."

Her hollow mind drifted to Derek.

 _Why had he left her?_

* * *

He startled when Prentiss appeared in front of him, seemingly out of nowhere. Looking sheepish she held up the cup of coffee.

"Thanks," Derek smiled, accepting the warm Styrofoam cup.

"I didn't mean to..." waving her hands around – like Derek, she wasn't the best with apologies.

"I know," he chuckled, taking a timid sip of his drink. "I'm sorry too."

Taking a seat in front of his desk, she crossed her leg – ankle resting against her knee, as it shook. Derek rolled his eyes, knowing she was itching for answers, but having enough respect not to pry. Still feeling guilty for how he acted, he decided to skip the naughty details and tell her what happened. Maybe it would help ease his aching body. "No, _just your heart_ ," he thought to himself.

"We stayed together Sunday, and the next morning," he took a sip, courage slipping away when he had her full attention. "I wanted to make her breakfast, so I went to Lucia's."

"Oh, they have the best bagels!" Prentiss chimed in, clamping her mouth shut when he stared at her. Putting a finger to her lips, she pretended to zip them and throw away the key.

"Yes, great bagels. There Pen's favorite," he leaned back in his chair, turning slightly away from her – it was easier to tell her if he didn't have to watch the look of pity that she would certainly have. "Any way, I stopped at the market next door. Grabbed a few things, so I could cook an actual meal," raising a brow when he saw her stir, obviously wanting to ask why he never told her that he could cook. "So I got what I wanted. It took like forty minutes tops. I headed up to her apartment and opened the door."

The image flashed in his mind, and he hadn't even realized he had stopped talking, until Emily softly coughed – encouraging him to continue.

" _Lynch_ was inside, he had her against the wall," he stopped, clearing his throat. "He asked her…Don't you want to get married, _Plum Sauce_." He absolutely hated that nick name, it was completely unoriginal and didn't have an ounce of sweetness to it. Penelope deserved more than that.

"And…" Prentiss was leaning forward with bated breath, knowing she had to tread lightly if she wanted any answers.

"What do you think!" he barked, the anger he felt in that moment – that he tried to tamper down all day, coursed through him. "She said…and I quote…You know I do!"

Emily didn't say anything, giving him a moment.

"And…" she finally asked.

Derek glared at her. "And!" he barked. "I left!"

Emily jumped out of her seat, surprising him "What the fuck do you mean, you left!" she yelled.

Derek stood up, not liking the disadvantage he felt with her glaring down on him. "What was I supposed to do? Drag her away from her dream!"

Emily scoffed, pacing the front of his desk, breathing hard as tried to formulate her thoughts.

"You know as well as I do, that she wants to settle down," he countered. "To get married, have babies. The whole shebang!"

Emily stopped and looked at him, taking the few steps 'til she was in front of his desk. "Yeah?" she shook her head with laughter, though it lacked any mirth. "And what about you, Derek?"

Derek sat back down, turning away from her. It was so silent in his office that he thought she had left – only for her to speak up once again.

"Because that ring! You know, the one that you've carried around in your pocket for years," he swung back around, eyes wide. "Tells me, you want the same damn thing!" she yelled, then spun around as she stormed out of his office.

He sat there shocked, with his mouth agape and eyebrows raised.

Then he felt like an idiot.

To be continued…


	6. V

**A/N I do not own Criminal Minds. This is going to be a bumpy ride from here on out, so please buckle up and hang on! Thanks for reading!**

 **Please, Enjoy!**

 **Lunar Cocoon**

Chapter V:

The crisp night air – flowing in from the open window, felt soothing as it rushed over her face and body. The tension headache she had been sporting all day, was now a full-fledged migraine. Leaning her head against the side of the door and closing her eyes, she dreamt about wrapping herself up in her favorite comforter and falling asleep in her bed.

Nerves prickling with fear, her body recoiled – the memory of being held down in a place that was supposed to be safe, made her bolt upright. The space suddenly felt too small – gasping, she tried to fill her lungs with air.

"You need me to pull over?" his baritone voice cascaded over her.

Vigorously shaking her head, only to instantly regret the motion as nausea swept over her. "I'm fine," she gritted out, not wanting to feel any more like a burden.

"You don't look… _fine_ ," she could feel his eyes sweep over her body, hear the teasing smirk that was surely gracing his lips. One of her hands was bunched around the skirt of her dress, her other hand braced against the dashboard. Feeling ridiculous, she forced herself to sit up straight.

" _One…two…three…in_ ," the familiar mantra forcing her mind to compose itself.

"Keep going," flashing him her best smile. "Please."

Reaching his hand over to rest on her kneecap – thumb running comforting circles against her bare skin, she couldn't help but to notice the slight differences. Where his hand was large, like Derek's – his name causing her sore heart to pang against her chest, his fingers were shorter, barely callused, and slightly clumsy.

"You know I don't mind," having sensed her trepidation. "This is actually a nice drive. Great for sightseeing."

Furrowing her brows, she darted her eyes out the window. "In the middle of the night?" The trees that were changing colors with the onset of spring, were barely visible in the distance.

He chuckled. "Sorry. I'm bad at this stuff."

"Driving?" playing coy, having sensed a shift of atmosphere inside his truck.

"No," his hand had risen just the slightest up her leg. "Talking to a pretty lady."

"Eric," she murmured, placing her hand over his. He moved his hand away, throwing her a toothy grin.

"My geeky ass brother was always the lucky one," he joked. "Go figure!" she would have made an effort to laugh, being the type of person who always tried to keep the peace, but her body was too heavy with sorrow.

 _You got what you wanted!_ Her mind echoed, though she didn't feel lucky.

The silence carried on for several miles – mind feeling numb, she was just about to drift off to sleep, when he spoke again.

"He loves you, Penelope," having lost the teasing lilt to his voice, she stared over at him. "You know that right?"

She didn't even have the energy to wipe away the tears.

* * *

_ _Flashback: Dinner Party / Late Evening_ _

He had promised her, that they would leave soon after brunch – two, three at the latest. Glancing at her phone, she was dismayed to discover that it was already past 8 o'clock. They both had work tomorrow and not wanting to take off another 'sick day', she tried once again to get his attention.

"Kevin," she called from the archway. As she peered into the den with the mahogany floor to ceiling bookshelf's and dark burgundy furniture, mini bar off to the side, flat screen TV hanging over the crackling fireplace – she couldn't help but to notice the place reeked of cigars, scotch and testosterone.

"Hey, _Plum Sauce_!" Lewis drawled out, his crooked teeth flashing from the light of the fire, gave him a menacing look which made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

"Kevin," she asked again a little louder, stepping farther into the room.

Having switched to heavier alcohol after brunch, the men – besides Eric, had been drinking all evening. She stood next to the arm chair, her patience thinning as Kevin kept his attention glued to the poker tournament that was playing on the giant 60 inch screen.

"Hmm," he finally mumbled.

"Are you ready to go?" keeping her voice light and hopeful.

"Awe, the party is just starting," his brother cooed, belching after swigging his beer.

"Lewis," Lenard reprimanded form the sofa. "Kevin, she's talking to you."

Kevin huffed, and turned around, batting his eyes at her. "It's almost over."

"We have work tomorrow," she tried to reason, though catching his glassy eyes, she sensed the battle had already been lost.

"Pumpkin, sit with me," not waiting for an answer, he yanked on her wrist and tried to drag her down on to his lap – though it being the end of the day, she was getting fed up with his clingy behavior and pushed against his shoulders.

"Kevin!" she nearly shouted, causing the men to stare at her.

"There's more room over here, Plum!" patting his lap, Lewis chuckled.

"Hey, get your own girlfriend!" Kevin whined, glaring across the room.

Not wanting to hear any more of their debates, she took the bull by the horns.

"Thank you, for the lovely evening Mr. Lynch. Though unfortunately, I do need to get going," not having the energy for anymore hospitable manners, she looked back at Kevin and smiled. "You have fun, okay. I'm just going to call a cab."

"Don't be silly, Penny!" Kevin stood up. "That will easily cost over a hundred bucks!"

"I'll pay for it," twirling on her heels, she headed back to the living room, making sure to grab her coat and purse.

"Penny!" Mary bristled from the kitchen. "Your leftovers," holding out a plate of desserts – that decadent lemon meringue pie, which she had to admit was delicious, was not something she wanted more of.

Taking the plate anyway, she smiled. "Thank you. It was nice meeting you," swinging her purse over the crook of her arm. "It's getting late. I should get going."

She had just made it towards the white glass door, when his voice shouted after her.

"Penny!"

"What Kevin!" she whirled around, nerves grated to sharp points – only to watch as Kevin took out a little box, opening it to reveal a one carat solitaire engagement ring.

"Oh, Lenard!" Mary squealed. "Lenard, come here!" Running down the hall to get her husband.

"I know I've been weird today," Kevin visibly gulped, sweat gathering atop his brow. "I've just been nervous."

It felt like her heart had stopped, only to sluggishly pulse back to life.

"What are you doing," she whispered.

"Penny, I've wanted to ask you for a while," he held the ring up. "I had this picked out for months," swallowing, he looked away from her. "Then, after last night, and… _Derek_."

Shaking her head, she backed away.

Stepping closer, eyes pleading. "We should get married, Plum Sauce," reaching for her, he grabbed her wrist – thumb rubbing over the back of her hand. "I don't want your mistake to stand in the way of our future."

"Kevin, what are you talking about?" that shrill voice was back.

Looking over Kevin's shoulder, she spotted his parents and brother behind him. Mary's brows were arched, arms crossed over her chest.

"Nothing, Ma!" Kevin, rolled his eyes.

"I…Kevin…" hands clammy, ears ringing, her natural instinct was to bolt out the door. Anyone who knew her, knew she was terrified of change. "I…can't…not after-…"

She watched his eyes narrow into angry slits. "He left, Penelope."

She looked away, the wound was still too fresh and the insult felt like a slap to her face. "Stop it," her voice sounded small, even to her own ears.

"But I'm still here," lifting her chin with his hand, forcing their eyes to meet. "I didn't leave you."

_ _End of Flashback_ _

* * *

She felt the car come to a halt, though she kept her eyes shut for a moment longer.

"Hey, pretty lady," he rocked her shoulder gently. "Were here."

Sitting up slowly, she stretched out a few kinks. Looking out her window she spotted the courtyard to her apartment. Reaching for her purse, she pulled out her wallet.

"Oh, no way," he held his hands up, smiling. "It's on me."

"Let me," she pulled out a twenty, only for him to cover her hand. "If not for gas, then think of it as a 'thanks' for bringing me home," she insisted.

Eric shook his head. "No can do," tapping her on the tip of her noise, he peeked over the steering wheel to stare up at the old brick building. "But, I could use the little boys' room, if that's okay."

Realizing she too had a full bladder, and since he had gone beyond the call of duty, she nodded. "Sure, come on up."

He put a hand against the small of her back as she led the way up the staircase, exhausted she kept fumbling with her purse as she tried to find her keys.

"Here, let me," taking the oversized pink bag, he shuffled a few things around and pulled out the sparkling lanyard, her colorful keys dangling at the bottom. "There ya go!"

Grateful, she smiled up at him. "Thank you, kind sir."

He took one of her bright curls and looped it behind her ear. "Any time."

Feeling the shift happening again, she was about to remind him about where they stood, when that husky voice jarred her thoughts.

"Are you fucking him, too?" his voice was low, and the heat behind those amber eyes caused her to bite her lip in embarrassment – that is until his words crashed through her mind.

"E-Excuse me?" she sputtered, shocked at his harsh accusation.

"Who the hell are you?" Eric had stepped forward, blocking Penelope behind him.

"Get out of my way," he growled, making a point to rest his hand above his badge.

"Go home, Derek!" tears had welled up at the sight of him – as did the anger she had been holding back all evening.

"We need to talk, Baby Girl," his voice was softer, pleading.

"Don't call me that!" she screamed. "You don't get to call me that!" her throat constricted –anxiety swelling beneath her chest, clawing at her lungs.

"Penelope, listen to me!" he took a step forward, only to be blocked by Eric.

"Look man, she obviously doesn't want to talk to you," he wrapped an arm protectively around Penelope, holding his other hand up towards Derek.

Feeling overwhelmed, she shot her arm up, pushing against Eric's chest.

"What is that?" Derek's voice was low, barely above a whisper. Looking up she caught his eyes – filled with concern and seething with anger – following his gaze she landed on her bruised wrist.

"Like you give a fuck!" she gritted out, his eyes widened at her curse. She rarely used that type of language – in fact she could probably count on a single hand the times she ever spoke it.

He took a step forward, only to be pushed back by Eric.

Screaming, she watched as Derek swung – hitting the other man with a powerful upper cut, the sickening crunch, made her stomach drop.

"Oh my god!" watching in horror as blood dripped down Eric's face, staining his white shirt red.

Her purse fell to the floor as Eric swung back, catching Derek with a harsh blow to the gut. The men tumbled back against the wall, both obviously knew how to fight, and neither one was backing down.

"Stop it," her voice rasped out, body trembling with fear.

Derek caught sight of Penelope and froze. That was all it took for Eric to swing, knocking the darker man's head back against the wall – the skin beneath his eye breaking open, red liquid coursing down his cheek.

"Stop it!" she screamed, gasping for breath. The pungent smell of copper, making her queasy.

"Baby Girl," Derek took a step towards her, pushing his way past the other man.

"Your cheek," she sobbed, it was already swelling and she was flooded with guilt.

"It doesn't matter, we need to talk Princess," even though she knew he had to be in pain, he smiled at her – gently grasping her chin in those large hands of his, wiping away the tears she hadn't realized were flowing down her cheeks. His soothing affects were addictive – encasing his wrists with her hands, she kept him in place.

"Derek…I-…" she caught movement behind him, only to see Eric – nose broken, walking back towards them.

"You can talk, but I'm not leaving her alone with you," he snarled.

Derek looked at him, hands never leaving her face. "Who the fuck are you?"

"I'm her family!" he groused out, panting through his mouth – head slightly tilted back as he pinched his nose. "Who the fuck are you?"

Derek stiffened, brows furrowed as he tried to make sense of the information – confused he looked back at Penelope, only for the lights to glimmer against the diamond ring on her hand.

Stepping back, wrenching his hands away as if he had been burnt.

He backed farther away and she could only watch as his eyes lost focus, filling with unshed tears.

"Derek," she whimpered.

To be continued…


	7. VI: I

**A/N I do not own Criminal Minds. Thank you to everyone who is reading (favorited, followed, and/or reviewed) the support is greatly appreciated!**

 **Please, enjoy!**

 **Lunar Cocoon**

Chapter VI: Part I

The blonde beauty in the black fitted suit had entered the room, being a red-blooded man who had an affinity towards curves; he quickly perused her body – eyes twinkling in appreciation, though chiding himself for not remembering her name.

"Hey, what's that new tech girl's name?" he asked, glancing back towards the desk.

"Uh, Gomez, I think?" Reid's furrowed brows of uncertainty was a rare sight, making Derek a little nervous in getting her attention.

"S'cuse me, Gomez!" he called out – not getting a response, he took a chance. "Hey, Baby Girl."

Holding his breath, he watched as she froze – slowly turning around; wisps of blonde hair revealing those dark painted lips, cute little green headband and sparkling eyes framed with black glasses – completing the oh-so-sexy secretary ensemble.

"Baby Girl?" she questioned, with just a hint of amusement.

"Uh, forgive me. I just didn't know the real-…" he tried to back track, not wanting to offend her before he even got the chance to know her.

"I've been called worse," she shook her head, full pouty lips gracing him with a smile. "What can I do for you?"

What can I do for you?

Oh, she could do everything for him.

Penelope was the only person who he had told all of his dark secrets too. She was the first person he thought about when he woke up and before he fell asleep – each and every morning and night for the last five years. His mind, body and soul sought out the comfort only she could provide.

Those hazel eyes; filled with pride and complete adoration, made him want to fight harder, to rid the world of the evil violence that flooded her computer screens. Wanting, needing to protect the rays of his Baby Girl's generous heart and beautifully innocent mind – the sunshine that has pumped love back into his tattered soul.

What can I do for you?

Playing on a constant loop, her voice echoed within his mind.

His God Given Solace could do…everything, for him.

Everything – but love him.

Love him back, as much as he loved her.

The fond memory of their first encounter sent a sharp, stabbing pain shooting throughout his body. Clamping his eyes shut, before the stinging tears could fall – only for his mind to cruelly paint the image of that glimmering diamond, filling the empty space of her ring finger that belonged to him.

Lungs constricting, his heavy heart pulsed miserable waves of bitter sorrow – making him nauseous, forcing him to catch his breath.

He briefly wondered if there was any medicine on this Earth, strong enough to stop the searing pain that consumed the abandoned void inside his chest.

"Derek Morgan," the clipped, professional voice rang out inside the sterile lobby.

Standing up, he slowly began to rebuild his wall of defense – once again trying to survive the devastation, which was Penelope Garcia.

* * *

The opulent vanilla aroma of the Cabernet drifted over her senses – hazel eyes narrowing as she watched the dark liquid swirl around the wine glass. Taking a deep breath, she took a giant swig – and then another, slamming the glass back down on the wooden coffee table.

Inelegantly wiping the sticky substance with the back of her hand, as it drizzled down the side of her chin. Grabbing the bottle once more, she was busy filling her glass back up – almost to the rim, when a hand shot out in front of her.

Yanking the alcohol away.

"I think you had enough," his deep voice washed over her; distant and broken – like the low hum of a radio.

"Give it…back," she slurred – vision blurring into a kaleidoscope of colors.

"That will be your fourth one," he reasoned, firmly corking the bottle.

Looking up; blinking a few times – she slid her glasses off to rest on top of her head, only to squint her eyes at the solid man in front of her.

"Penelope," his voice had lowered, sitting down on the couch – steel grey eyes observing her position on the floor.

"Give…it…back," the sweet liquor had blended with the acerbic pang of guilt, churning her stomach – not that it mattered.

Feeling queasy she propped her elbow on the table in front of her, resting her head in the palm of her hand, closing her eyes for just a second – holding her other hand out, waiting for the bottle.

"I think, you should go to bed," he twirled a soft lock of bright copper hair, grinning when she leaned towards him – seeking the gentle comfort he was offering.

"I'm not…sleepy," hazel eyes glistening with unshed tears, she glared up at him.

"It will help," he whispered, shifting just a little closer.

"Your…nose," she arched a brow at him, perplexed – the alcohol, slowly taking effect.

"Is fine," he smiled, though it looked more like a grimace – the dark purple bruise under his eyes and the dried blood under his nose, wasn't reassuring.

"You hurt…" hand flying to her mouth to cover up the hiccup. "Him."

"I thought he was going to hurt you," Eric defended, quickly sliding down on the floor next to her.

"Now!" screaming suddenly. "He won't…come back!" she wailed, sobs wracking her body as she tried to gasp for breath.

"Hey," he scooted closer, wrapping an arm around her – bringing her shaking body to rest against his chest, slowly rocking her back and forth. "Shh…shh…" he cooed into her ear. "It's okay, just breathe."

She shook her head, curls flying about her head. "He hates…me" throat constricting, confessing her worst fear on a tearful whisper.

"I'm sure he doesn't," he rubbed her back, trying to calm her down.

"Did you see…my Hot Stuff's," she patted her chest, releasing another hiccup. "Face?" her body convulsed, wracked with another bout of vicious sobs.

Seconds turned into minutes as a blanket of silence surrounded them – contrasting the raging turmoil that had plagued Penelope since Derek turned around and walked back down the corridor of her apartment – leaving her, once again.

The arctic chill; he had left in his wake, seeped into her bones – consuming her soul, splintering her already broken heart.

She barely remembered Eric getting her inside the apartment and sitting her down on the couch, checking her over once more before he walked into the kitchen – taking his ruined shirt off and holding an ice pack to his nose.

Having spotted the wine bottle on the coffee table; a remnant from her dinner with Derek – she couldn't stop the memory from flooding her senses. The astringent scent of blue nail polish, the warm aroma of a home cooked meal – those amber eyes simmering with heat, legs spread wide; indulging in the waves of pleasure his long, nimble fingers had elicited from her.

The memory of him thrusting inside of her was almost palpable – forcing her to reach out for the wine and pour herself a glass, quickly swigging it down before she even had a chance to taste the liquor.

Though her body was numb, she needed her mind to forget – choosing the remedy of alcohol to ease the pain, as it throbbed inside her chest.

Having spent the last hour drinking; finishing up one bottle, opening up another – Penelope greedily welcomed the lethargic weight encasing her body.

The firm embrace, the gentle rocking motion lulled her dizzying mind back to the present – her pitiful wails finally subdued, collapsing herself into soft hiccups and sniffles.

"Do you want me to call, Kevin?" he murmured against her ear, reaching for his cell phone. "He should be here…with you."

That was the wrong thing to say.

Harshly wiping her face, smearing the mascara across her cheeks – she pushed against him.

"Get out," she murmured, rolling on to her knees to stand up – wobbling just the slightest, pointing towards the door.

Eric sprung to his feet in an instant, holding his hands up in front of him – a gesture of peace, not wanting to anger her.

"You need to drink some water," he reasoned, eyes wide with concern. "Get some, sleep."

"I'm fine," she laughed, the bitter sound resonating around them lacking genuine mirth.

Patting the top of her dress; coming up empty, she looked around the coffee table, then dug around the plush cushions of the couch – tossing pillows to the floor, any which way.

Standing back up she huffed, blowing bangs out of her face – nibbling on her lip, only to startle when he reached his hands out in front of her. Frozen, she watched him – releasing the breath she hadn't realized she was holding when he gently took the glasses off her head and placed them back over her eyes.

"There you go," he softly cupped the side of her face, thumb running under her bottom lip.

The tender moment was such a Derek-esque thing to do – so achingly similar to that night, only a few days before.

When those firm lips had melded perfectly to hers, knocking her senseless – tilting the world on its axis, shifting the planetary alignment – simultaneously destroying her heart and weaving it back together with every breathless kiss, loving caress and litanies of whispered promises.

Catching steel grey eyes instead of her favorite glittering amber, she took a step back.

"Thanks," crossing her arms in front of her. "I'm fine. Really."

He pursed his lips, brows crinkling just the slightest – turning back towards her kitchen, searching, until he found a big glass and filled it up.

"At least drink this," he held it out for her. "For me, please."

"Then you go," she arched a brow, and waited – taking the cool drink when he finally nodded.

Sipping the water, she narrowed her eyes when he picked up the half full wine bottle – pouring the rest of it down the sink. Quickly finishing the drink, she waited until he faced her; plastering a grin upon her face.

"All gone," she chirped, waving the empty glass around.

Eric watched her, glancing around the room – walking over to the wooden desk in the corner, scribbling something down before handing it to her.

"Call me, if you need anything," when she didn't take the slip of paper, he placed it on the table next to her. Grabbing his discarded shirt, he gave her once last look before closing the door behind him.

Taking a shuddering breath, she took a few steps forward to lock her door – biting the inside of her cheek before bolting it, and sliding the chain in place.

Passing through her beaded curtains, the sight of her bed; sheets twisted, pillows littered around the floor – had her frozen to the spot. A spark of fear, surging once more through her already exhausted body.

Backing out of the room, she headed towards the kitchen – opening a cabinet, shifting a few things from the back, until she found what she was looking for.

Not paying attention, she knocked over a glass – shattering it into little shards across her bare feet. Giving up, she took a giant swig – relishing the citrus spice of the tequila as it burned her throat, needing the dizzying effect to soothe her nerves.

Walking back to the couch, she plopped herself down on the floor – ignoring the faint stinging of her feet.

Closing her eyes, taking another sip.

* * *

Opening his fisted hand, stretching the palm as he wiggled his fingers around, scowling at the deep purple bruise across his knuckles.

Sitting on the uncomfortable, plastic hospitable bed – waiting for the results of his X-ray, hoping that he would get the all clear. The last thing he needed was Hotch on his ass for an injury, though having been in plenty of scuffles, he knew it wasn't broken.

However, he was aware that he would need clearance in order to work tomorrow, especially since that fucker had sucker punched him – splitting the skin underneath his eye open, leaving a nasty looking gash.

Not in the mood to go home, alone – he had checked himself into the hospital. The bright sterile environment and the distinct taste of iron, still lingering in his mouth – heightened his already foul mood.

"Derek Morgan?" the feminine voice filtered through his mind.

The tall, beautiful woman with radiant russet eyes – holding a giant manila envelope under her arm as she wrapped a stethoscope around her neck, entered the little room.

Stepping closer to the bed, she grimaced when she caught sight of his cheek.

"I'm your doctor," she gave him a sweet smile, pulling up a little stool next to him. "Savannah Hayes."

To be continued…


	8. VI: II

**A/N I do not own Criminal Minds, or the quote. I was going to wait to post this, but I felt bad, so here it is! PolHop, thanks for the wonderful update! Also, this might seem a little strange, but please stick with me, there is a point to it all, and it will make sense; or we can all just blame my Muse, 'cuz that's what I do! Thank you everyone who has been reading, and or reviewed (Even those guest ones, I appreciate the support from you all!)**

 **Warning: Strong Sexual Themes, Coarse Language, A little bit of Violence at the end.**

 **Please, enjoy!**

 **Lunar Cocoon**

Chapter VI: Part II

" _Nothing is so strong as gentleness, and nothing is so gentle as real strength"_

 _Ralph W. Sockman_

* * *

 _The scream ripped through the brisk night air like a knife through a blade of grass._

 _A flurry of wind lashed strands of copper hair into her face– whirling around, only to see an endless sea of trees all around her._

" _ **H-Help Me**_ _!"_

 _Carried on the breeze – disjointed, like a burst of static._

" _Hold on!" choosing a direction – the strong desire; the instinctive duty to save them, coursed through her veins, clouding her judgment. "I'm coming!"_

 _Taking off running; lungs burning as she gasped for air._

 _Heart thrumming in her chest; beating frantically like a rabbit – vision blurring as tears streamed down her face._

 _Luminous moonlight, peeking through the dark rain clouds – the only thing lighting her path._

" _ **Help me**_ _!" their voice was closer; more distinct – heart clenching, recognition chilling her blood. "_ _ **Please! Somebody**_ _!"_

 _Turning right, she took off – terror prickling her skin, anxiety churning her stomach into knots. Holding one arm out in front of her, bracing herself as twigs and branches snapped against her body._

 _Reaching a clearing, she spotted the hooded figure – the blade glistening high above his head, angling it over the victim._

" _No, no…stop it," she tried to scream, only for her throat to seize – words getting lost in the wind._

 _Horrified – she could only watch as the man lifted the blade even higher, only to swiftly bring it back down._

" _NO!" her body; paralyzed with fear, remain rooted to the ground._

 _The man stopped, turning suddenly to face her – revealing a pair of crimson eyes, flickering viciously underneath his hood._

" _ **Pen…elope**_ _!" barely a whisper._

 _Catching sight of the blade; coated with blood – taking a step back, as the man headed towards her._

 _Screaming, her world suddenly collapsed into darkness, as she thrashed rebelliously against a force._

" _NO!" she flailed, trying to run away – only to become disoriented. "Stop it!"_

" _ **Penelope**_ _!" that voice, familiar; soothing her frazzled nerves._

Eyes flying open, body shooting up – she gasped for air, arms pushing against the heavy weight that was holding her down.

"Baby Girl," Derek's husky voiced rumbled against her, realizing his strong arms were wrapped firmly around her – cocooning her in the safety of his embrace.

"Derek," she breathed out, eyes taking in the quaint room – remembering that they were still in Alaska.

Fragments of Penelope's nightmare washed over her – fingers digging into his cotton shirt, trying to calm down.

"Shh, Baby…I got you," rocking her gently against him – peppering her face with butterfly kisses, rubbing her back with soothing circles. "I'm not going anywhere," firmly cupping her chin, he forced her to look up at him – amber eyes, bristling with concern. "You're safe."

"I…I couldn't…" closing her eyes, heart panging with guilt. "And then…it was, one of you…out there…and I…couldn't…" letting the tears fall, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Save you."

"Look at me, Penelope," his voice soft, yet demanding.

Shaking her head only to bury her face further into his shoulder.

"Princess, look at me," sliding his arms between their bodies, he gently peeled her off of him, cupping her face – thumbs running underneath her eyes, banishing her tears. "You risked your life tonight. I hate that I could have…lost you," breath hitching, leaning his head a little closer, resting his forehead on hers.

Eyes locking together, amber and hazel smoldering with heady arousal – the only noise surrounding them was the crackling fireplace and the heavy panting of their hot breaths.

Before Penelope could think, she wrapped her hands around his neck – fingers digging into the back of his scalp, bringing his face that much closer to hers.

Lips brushing softly against his – only for him to pull back, just the slightest.

"Baby Girl," eyes burning with need – and yet, something much greater than either of them could fathom.

"Derek," she purred, pulling him back to her. "Please."

Leaning forward, she squealed in surprise as he lifted her – placing her on his lap; making her straddle his waist as he laid back atop of the pillows, watching intently from below.

Wiggling her ass against his burgeoning member; creating just enough friction to make his eyes clamp shut, as his hands shot to her hips – stilling her movement, only to gently rock her back and forth.

She whimpered, when he bent his legs – forcing her thighs to spread just a little farther apart, heat radiating between them.

Looking down from her perch – feeling in control, as the beast of a man laid tame beneath her; entrusting her to take what she wanted. The little smirk on Derek's face, letting her know just how much he was truly enjoying it.

"Off," tugging on the hem of his shirt – grinning, when he sat up, quickly tearing the soft cotton over his head.

Shadows, cast by the flickering flames, danced across the rippling muscles of his chest; taking a moment to admire the sculpted work of art before her – insides quivering with longing.

"Oh, Angelfish," pouty lips pursed together; eyes still red and puffy – twinkled with mischief. "You're absolutely…" starting from his shoulder, she traced his collarbone, stopping just below his neck and dragging her black manicured nail down his chest – following the indents of those firm abs; swirling around his belly button, before walking her fingers back up and gently flicking his nipples, "…stunning."

Looking back up; catching those amber eyes which had turned obsidian with carnal desire – his fingers digging sharply into the soft flesh of her hip, only to flutter smoothly against her belly; raising the thermal top just a little higher.

Hands quickly grabbing the cotton and pulling it back down, biting her lip as she turned to face the window – curtains slightly parted, revealing the serene radiance of the full moon; encasing them in a dazzling hue of azure.

Derek tugged on her top – lifting it again, until the material rested right below the swell of her breasts. Narrowing her eyes, watching as he took one hand away – kissing two long fingers with those full lips she loved so much, only to bring them back over her waist; gently tapping the raised starburst knot next to her belly button.

The silvery scar; which she absolutely despised – a harsh reminder of falling victim to not trusting her gut instinct – of the day the two of them had an argument; a rarity that had slightly chipped the armor of their friendship.

Penelope had almost died that night; hell only a mere hours before she had run head first towards danger, risking her life once more. The thought that she could have left this Earth having never touched him so intimately – consumed him, melded together; becoming one with him – flickered through her mind, like an abrasive taunt.

A single tear had seeped out of the corner of his eye, rolling down his cheek, gathering against the side of his mouth. Heart beating in her chest; thundering like a storm against her ribs – she leaned forward, licking the salty drop away.

Cupping the side of his face with the palm of her hands, she tenderly suckled on his bottom lip - nibbling the soft flesh, barely peeping her tongue out to trace his teeth. His fingers dug, just a little harder – pulling her heated core down on him, just a little more.

One of his hands shot underneath the back of her top – bringing her closer to him, needing more contact. His other hand; yanking the front of her top up – exposing a pale orb with a taut raspberry tip; puckered and aching to be touched, licked…devoured.

Her moan was covered by the harsh growl from the back of his throat.

Derek parted his lips and she delved her tongue inside the warm depth of his mouth – taking her time to taste him; stroking every crevice – memorizing the silken cavern like a treasure map.

The kiss went from sensual tenderness to sloppy desperation – with lips bruising, teeth clicking and fingers digging into flesh. The moment was exquisitely erotic – everything Penelope knew kissing Derek would be.

Needing air, they separated – resting their foreheads together as hazel and amber, locked together. Feeling bolder she rolled her hips, which had been pulsing with arousal since he had trapped her against the wall, earlier that evening.

"Off," his guttural voice demanded, smirking as he tugged on her top.

Hesitating a moment, until his large hands cupped the soft globes of her ass; deft fingers squeezing – silently challenging her to not back down, having come so far.

Closing her eyes, she tore the yellow thermal over her head – grinning when she heard Derek's sharp intake of breath.

"Holy…fuck," he dropped his legs; slightly crossing them together, sitting up – forcing her ass to drop into the crook of his lap as she wrapped her legs around his back. "God…Pen"

She arched a brow; shocked, though flattered, at his nonverbal praises. His mouth was still parted, nostrils flaring; his eyes glued to her chest – and she was surprised to feel him harden a little more beneath her.

Grinding down on him; her heated center, rocked tantalizingly against him – giving her some of that friction she was craving. Nails digging harshly into his shoulder blades, holding on – begging him to assuage the ache that was throbbing with need, pooling slick heat between her thighs.

"Baby Girl," he groaned; Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed – eyes narrowed into slits, losing the last restraints of his control.

Penelope froze, eyes wide as she watched him – shuddering gasps trying to rush oxygen back to her brain and heart as her body coiled with anticipation.

His large hands cupped her breasts – lifting the heavy weights, squeezing the soft flesh. Callused, nimble fingers traced over her puckered nipples – the pad of his thumbs, gliding over the taut points; only to tug, rolling them roughly and causing her to squirm against him.

"Please," her voice hoarse, almost frantic.

Smirking, he leaned forward, latching on to the supple peak – greedily suckling as he gyrated his groin upwards. Rocking them in a gentle motion; similar to a tethered buoy floating above a wave.

 _Sweet heavens!_

The prickling stubble of his facial hair was rough against her smooth, sensitive breasts; sending her into a dizzying clit-pulsing-womb-clenching spiral of hyper awareness.

"Derek…I please," squeezing her legs around his waist. He released her tit with a wet ' _pop_ ' and glanced up at her, panting hot, heavy breath onto her stomach.

Pushing her backwards until she lay cushioned on the plaid quilt covering the bed – shifting his body from underneath her; crawling over her, as she cradled his weight between her lush thighs.

Perched up on his forearms, he peppered her neck with gentle caresses – licking every patch of exposed skin, memorizing every freckle and blemish. Kissing his way between her cleavage, where he nuzzled his face. Rolling her eyes at his obvious infatuation, as he took his time worshiping the curves she had caught him staring at for the last five years.

Blistering with arousal, she pushed at his shoulders only for him to grab her wrists and pin them next to her head. Her eyes flew open and she gasped, though her back arched; melding her hips closer to his.

Dropping his head next to hers, he swirled his tongue around the shell of her ear – nibbling on the fleshy lobe only to roughly tug on it, his heavy panting tickling the copper tendrils against her face.

"Patience," he whispered, rocking against her. Mewling beneath him as his rigid length; still cloaked within his sweats – rubbed against her thermal clad sex.

"Derek, now," her body writhed in longing; painfully aching to be filled.

He leaned back, grasping the elastic of her pants – waiting for permission before peeling them over her hips and down her thighs, yanking them off her ankles before tossing the garment across the room.

His eyes darkened and the animalistic growl that escaped his throat – sent a shock wave thrumming throughout her body.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," he grunted in appreciation. Lifting her curvy leg; licking the little divot behind her knee cap – nipping at the skin, kissing his way up her thigh.

 _Oh, God! Please, please…please!_

Her breath hitched when his head stopped between her thighs, hesitating but a moment, eyes slowly perusing back up her body until they locked with hers. Screaming; her body jerked, when his velvety muscle delved between her swollen lips, lapping at the glistening essence that poured out of her.

"F-Fuck!" white flecks blurring her vision, clutching onto the quilt for dear life as her hips bucked against his face.

"If you move," taking his face away, glaring at her from between her quivering thighs. "I stop." She huffed and arched a brow only for him to furrow both of his right back at her. "Do you understand…," never taking his eyes off her, he blew hot breath at the pulsing point of her center. "Penelope?"

Nodding her head fervently, she bit her lip and braced herself.

 _Don't move. Got it_.

The tip of his tongue lightly tapped her swollen bud, and her choked sob of pleasure ricocheted around the silent room. Her whole body was like an exposed nerve, forcing her to feel – and oh how wonderful it was.

Derek swirled his tongue, creating a gentle friction which was altogether too much and not enough. The moment her head started to shake back and forth, babbling incoherent things to herself – she felt him smirk against her, his gruff chuckle sending vibrations shooting through her core and a string of expletives flying out of her mouth.

 _Oh, she was close, just a little…_

 _More!_

Without preamble he shot two fingers inside of her; thrusting those long digits, only to crook them against the sensitive patch deep within her – stroking her, building the waves of her pleasure one layer at a time.

"I need…fuck, right there!" she writhed on the bed, hips undulating against his face – rules be damned.

That is until, he completely stopped and glared at her – wrapping his hands around the tops of her thighs and yanking her towards him.

Resting her ass on his upper thighs – tilting her hips at an angle that left her legs spread wide, those long, callused fingers pressed slowly into her opening. "Oh Garcia," he tutted, the use of her last name wasn't lost on her. "You moved."

"No…I-I didn't," he plunged his fingers roughly inside of her – sliding them back out, tracing the wetness around her slit. Oh, was she in trouble. "Please, I'm sorry. I won't…move…this time," she panted, hell she would beg.

Penelope's eyes were brimming with tears, as her body teetered between a painful ache and sensual bliss.

It was like she was having a sexual awakening; a flux of sensations coupled with Derek's domineering take-charge attitude – something that was always present in their friendship; his manly dominance and gentle caring nature having always been a major turn on for her – had her flooded with arousal.

Though she was also at a breaking point.

"Morgan," she challenged, leaning forward, cupping his hard length under the soft cotton of his pants.

He hissed, eyes narrowing.

"Fuck me…now," she gritted out. "Stop teasing," squeezing firmly around him.

With an athletic move that only he could do, he got his pants off; stunning her into silence.

 _Oh my!_

A trail of dark hair led to a light cluster between his legs where his erection jutted out towards her. She always had a feeling her Hot Stuff would be impressive, and she was not disappointed. He was long and thick; perfectly curved, with a flared head that was darker than the rest of him.

Licking her lips as she watched a droplet of pre-cum leak out of the tip, rolling over the spongy flesh – trailing down the vein that pulsed along his shaft.

 _Oh, how she wanted a taste._

Wiggling out of his embrace, sitting up – leaning her face forward. Her little pink tongue was just about to lick him, when he hooked his large hands underneath her knees – pushing her back down into the mattress; pinning her in place, legs spread so wide it almost hurt.

"No fair," she moaned.

"You said, no teasing," her breath hitched as she watched him line himself up with her entrance. "You wanted to…fuck, right?" he smirked.

"Oh God, yes!" she arched her back, trying to grind her hips upwards, only for him to plunge fully inside of her.

The scream ripped from her throat and she forgot how to breathe, nearly blacking out as her vision burst with stars. He had barely rocked into her, but that was all it took.

Penelope stiffened – body quivering as she convulsed, gripping him like a vice. Her body throbbed with heated waves of electric pinwheels that surged from the base of her head, down her spine, exploding in her heated core, shooting down her legs to her curved toes.

Her mind was floating above her, drifting blissfully – indulging greedily in the best orgasm of her life.

Though Derek had other ideas.

"Fuck, Baby," his eyes had clamped shut, and her nails dug into his lower back – raking across his skin. Amber eyes opening, and she nodded – needing him still.

His hips rolled, slamming into her, filling her completely – stretching her with abandon; pounding into her womb, piercing her heart. And she wanted to cry as their bodies molded together beautifully.

The creak of the springs and wooden headboard slamming into the wall, was like a pulsing beat – adding to their erotic dance.

"I kinda…love you, Derek Morgan," she whimpered, feeling the sudden urge to declare something profound.

She waited, heart racing when he didn't respond to her. Biting her lip she looked back up into his face only to be met with crimson eyes flashing above her.

His hands had dropped her legs, wrapping around her neck instead – squeezing the pale column, cutting off her oxygen, hips pummeling into her.

"Der-…" she rasped out, fingers clutching onto his wrists, tears streaming down her face.

 _Stop!_

"Oh, Plum Sauce," that nasally voice washed over her. Blinking her eyes, shocked to see Kevin above her – eyes glowing with rage.

Flailing beneath him, she tried to push her legs into his chest – but it was no use.

Her lungs began to burn, the lack of air causing her to panic.

Swallowing her scream, she shook with fear.

To be continued…


	9. VII

**A/N I do not own Criminal Minds. Thank you everyone who is supporting this story!**

 **Please, enjoy!**

 **Lunar Cocoon**

Chapter VII:

" _Hello my fine furry friends, this oracle of all knowing is busy at the moment, but leave me something worth my while and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks, bye!"_

The bubbly voice of her friend floated over the phone and every time it went to voicemail, JJ's nerves twisted into concerned coils – it was not often the tech savvy Goddess missed a phone call, or didn't show up to work one day; and come late the next.

Hitting three on the speed dial; calling the familiar number once more, she sneakily peeked through the closed blinds to stare at Derek. The purple bruising underneath his eye and the vicious gash across his cheek was an unpleasant sight, but it was his swollen knuckles that had her nibbling on her lip to avoid gnawing off her nails.

It didn't help that Hotch had demanded he go home when Morgan had first arrived only for him to wave the clearance slip around; effectively shutting the stoic man up, who then went to stand in the corner with an equally agitated Rossi – or that Emily was in fact biting her nails as she watched him with narrowed eyes from her own desk as Reid puttered around behind her; fixing his clothes and his hair every few seconds.

Knowing he hadn't injured himself on the last case and since they had the last few days off that meant there had been a scuffle of sorts, and there was only one person in the world who could make Derek lose his temper – defending her with all his might, and that was his Baby Girl.

" _Hello my fine furry friends, this oracle of all know-…"_

Ending the call with a frustrated sigh, glaring as the man rested his head in the palm of his uninjured hand – the rush of guilt for jumping to conclusions, made her snap the blinds closed. Call it female intuition or having worked many years on a team full of profilers, but she was almost certain that whatever hurt Derek was the same thing that was keeping her friend away.

The naughty discovery of what had transpired between Morgan and Garcia, inside that cabin in the middle-of-nowhere-Alaska was obviously the romantic tryst of the century…or at least for the Agents of the BAU. It had started when Penelope's strangled scream woke JJ and Emily; who both felt helpless as their friend was wracked with sobs with her second nightmare of the night.

There had been a short lull in their talking, and they were just settling back into bed when that sound; a guttural groan that could only be sexual, rattled the silence of the girls room. JJ froze; clamping her eyes shut, though her ears betrayed her and heard it all. Blushing with guilt; giggling like school girls as the feral grunts and blissful moans had the headboard smacking into the thin wall of their room – only to feel like trespassers when whispered declarations; promises between lovers, were muffled next door but loud enough to feel the weight of every word.

It had brought tears to JJ's eyes, and if she squinted through the azure haze of their room she could have sworn she saw Emily quickly wipe her face and even sniffle a few times – JJ and Garcie always knew that raven haired beauty was a softie at heart.

JJ plopped down in her chair; face heated from that memory, feeling her heart clench with the possibility of those two finally being together, but as Emily and her had discussed in the wee hours of the morning while eating cold tomato soup and dried up biscuits – Penelope still had Kevin.

What had been a beautiful thing, was tainted with the fact that she had cheated; on a boyfriend she had been dating for a few years – though if you were to ask anyone on the team, no one would really care if their friend dropped the 180 pounds of mismatched clinginess.

She was just about to call Penelope one more time, since the round table meeting was about to start, when Reid entered her office; wide eyed and oddly, quiet.

"Spence?" fixing a few of the endless stacks of files on her desk.

"Did you happen to get ahold of Garcia?"

She shook her head, and offered what she thought was a hopeful smile. "I'm sure she's fine. I was just about to call her again."

"He hasn't said anything," sitting in the extra chair; crossing his ankles only to uncross them. "I mean, I'm sure she's fine, it's just…she's over an hour late. Her track record would indicate that-…"

"Reid!" cutting him off before he could confuse them both, and make her worry even more.

Before she could even reach for her phone, Hotch entered the cluttered office; letting them know the meeting was about to start.

Seeming to sense his team's concerns he trailed behind to talk to JJ as Reid caught up with Emily; both of them trying to keep a stealth eye on Derek.

"We can call her after the meeting?" his dark eyes easing her tension. "If not, we'll drive on over and check."

She nodded her head, gathering a few more files as she prepared to announce yet another grisly case. Flipping through the images; barely registering anything around her as the team discussed the details – doing their best to patchwork a profile with limited information.

As time slinked by like molasses, she was grateful when Hotch reached for the conference phone – several rings, and once again…

" _Hello my fine furry friends, this oracle of all knowing is busy at the moment, but leave me something worth my while and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks, bye!"_

Arching a brow when Rossi muttered under his breath and one didn't have to be fluent in Italian to know that he was upset.

Looking towards the glass doors, willing the vibrant woman to waltz right in; fumbling with her purse and endless gadgets only to spot an intern scurry pass to get more coffee.

Hotch was about to dial again when the phone shrilled to life, causing JJ to jump in her seat.

"Hotchner!" he barked, crossing his arms; glaring at the phone.

"Oh sir!" rustling of fabric and glasses clinking together could be heard. "I-I…I'm sorry, I'm on my way I didn't hear my alarm go off and overslept, and then I- oh ow…mother fuc-ugh!" she gritted out, shocking the team with her expletive – it was rare to hear the usually happy-go-lucky Penelope curse.

"Garcia?" JJ asked, scooting towards the edge of her seat. "Is everything alright?"

The only response she got in return was some rather uniquely foul words that brought an amused smirk to her face – though her blue eyes were bristling with worry, especially since Derek hadn't moved an inch.

"I…um," a sharp hiss and a few mumbled _ow's_ later, she seemed to have finally calmed down enough. "I'll be right in, sir. Give me like twenty minutes."

"Oh, is that Garcia?" a honey voice with a faint southern twang, interrupted from the doorway; revealing a chirpy older women with a feathered clip that pinned back her thick chestnut curls. JJ recognized her as one of the tech personnel, who often shared those delicious snickerdoodle cookies that Garcia kept in the flashy tree tin for the holidays.

JJ couldn't help but smile. The woman's presence was motherly and she seemed to share Penelope's fashion sense, though the yellow cardigan and purple striped skirt were considerably tame compared to their tech kittens.

"Holly?" came Garcia's childlike voice.

"Hey, sweet pea!" stepping further into the room, shifting the box of equipment on her hip. "I have your hard drives and wireless adapters. They finally came today!"

"Oh," clearing her throat. "Perfect, thank you! I um…just leave them locked in the storage bin, and I'll get them in a bit."

"Oh silly girl, that's nonsense!" Holly chuckled, the sparkling chain on her glasses jingling. "I made this trip just so I can congratulate you!"

The team members looked at each other, trying to digest this new information.

"Did we miss her birthday?" Emily mouthed.

"No that's August 15th. She was born 23 minutes after three AM. The zodiac sign is a Leo, which have the strengths of-…" leave it to Reid, always so matter of fact.

"My birthday?" Garcia cut him off, clearly confused. "It passed a few months ago."

"Oh no…no, not that," Holly smiled gratefully at Rossi; always the gentlemen, who helpfully took the heavy box from her. "I meant about your engagement," clapping her hands. "Gosh you have the whole tech pool betting if you're going to have a spring or winter wedding."

The poor woman startled; obviously not expecting the explosive reaction, as the room erupted with shocked exclamations.

JJ felt Derek stiffen next to her; tension rolling off him in waves - his amber eyes narrowed into glittering obsidian, but it was the glistening hurt that was simmering behind anger that had her heart plummet to the floor at his obvious pain.

 _Garcia was engaged to Lynch? No…no, that…did not make sense. It was not supposed to be this way for the Baby Girl and Hot Stuff of the BAU._

JJ was going to kick that little weasel Lynch ass and just as her mind started going through the methods of how to discreetly dispose of his body somewhere deep in the Appalachian Mountains, Penelope's strangled cry ripped through the commotion of the conference room.

"Garcia?" Hotch was leaning over the table, fingers digging into the wood.

The choked sobs and hiccuping pants muffled over the speakerphone, meant one thing.

She was having a panic attack.

To be continued…


	10. VIII: I

**A/N I do not own Criminal Minds. I'm so sorry for the long delay in updating and I'm also very grateful for everyone's continued support and patience! I am nearing my winter break and therefore all of my stories will be frequently updated starting this week.**

 **Please, enjoy!**

 **Lunar Cocoon**

Chapter VIII: Part I

Lingering remnants of gentle caresses and sensual kisses that held years of pent up frustrations and promises broke through her haze induced mind, leaving her heart racing and skin tingling with awareness.

Bolting awake; body trembling from a cold sweat as her muscles ached – strained from a night sleeping uncomfortably on the anthemion rug on her living room floor. Blinking away the blurry images of her apartment; head swirling with a vicious migraine that made her stomach queasy as she tried to find her glasses.

 _Good going, Garcie!_

Leaning back against the couch; her sore heart sluggishly pulsed the vivid memories of her first breathtaking time with Derek, only for a shiver of fear to shoot down her spine when she remembered the man with the Crimson eyes attacking her. It was a beautiful dream turned nightmare that kept haunting her since Alaska – making the last few days, tortuous hell.

Penelope closed her eyes and let the previous night wash over her. Jagged flashes of Kevin's family dinner and his unexpected proposal had her lungs panting for breath as nausea swept over her. Then like a cruel taunt Derek's bruised face; eyes simmering with anger after he had caught sight of the engagement ring, flooded her senses – heart clenching painfully, forcing her fingers to harshly dig into the palms of her hands as she struggled to hold back the tears.

A few debilitating moments later, she finally risked opening her eyes, only to catch sight of the nearly empty tequila bottle and several completely empty wine bottles and groaned. Garcia wasn't a big drinker, and having practically finished off all the alcohol that she owned; she was now paying dearly for the consequences.

Glaring at the brilliant morning sunlight that filtered through her patterned curtains, she finally crawled onto the couch, discovering a man's leather jacket – thinking it might have been Morgan's only to recognize the citrus cologne as belonging to Eric. Tears pricked her eyes and threatened to roll down her cheeks when she remembered that her Hot Stuff was still very hurt and angry.

Feeling absolutely miserable; she plopped down on the purple cushions, ready to sulk in her sorrow only for a shrill melodic ring to fill the quiet room – not having the energy to move, she stared up at the ceiling until it stopped.

Rubbing the bridge of her nose, easing the biting tension that flared behind her exhausted hazel eyes, only to growl as her phone went off again. Rolling over, hiding her face under a fringe pillow only to chuck the thing across the room when her phone went off once more.

 _Frack!_

Stumbling as she grabbed her phone off the coffee table; Hotch's number flashed on the screen and her mouth fell open when she saw that it was nearly ten o'clock – she sprung up from her reclined positioned and braced herself.

Only to cringe when his strict voice barked through the phone – feeling like a disobedient child who was about to get scolded.

"Oh sir!" she rasped out; trying to breathe through her nausea. "I-I…I'm sorry, I'm on my way. I didn't hear my alarm go off and overslept," she rambled, hoping to sound less frazzled then she felt, quickly standing up. "And then I-oh ow…" only for a searing pain to shoot through her feet. "Mother fuc-ugh!"

Blushing as the expletive flew out of her mouth and the betrayal of tears blurred her vision. Bending her leg, looking down at her foot – glaring at the sharp splinters of glass lodged into the tender, bloody flesh of her heel and arch.

 _When did that happen?_

It was only when that familiar southern twang reached out to her that she shifted back to the conversation.

"Holly?" she called out; fighting the emotions that swarmed to life inside of her – needing, craving that maternal figure to help soothe her shattered heart.

Becoming confused when they mentioned a congratulations and her birthday, Garcia slowly sunk back into the couch, only to startle when Holly mentioned her wedding.

Her breath hitched, body flushing from blazing to frigid in an instant. Hearing the commotion over the phone; bitter, angry exclamations from the team – recognizing every voice, except for one…every voice but Derek's.

He didn't react – didn't say one single thing.

Her insecure mind and sensitive heart battled furiously against each other. Trying to hang on for dear life only for a choked sob to tear past her quivering lips; sending her body spiraling into shock – consuming her with panic.

* * *

"Em," JJ's concerned voice filtered through her frustration.

"Hmm," she mumbled, glaring at the red light – willing it to change.

Getting silence in return, she arched her brows and finally glanced over at the restless blonde in the passenger seat, only to catch JJ's narrowed eyes and tilted chin, pointing at Emily's white knuckle grip on the steering wheel.

Taking a deep breath as she released her fingers, groaning as anxious flutters churned her gut. Prentiss wasn't a worrier by nature, but when it involved her team, her family – the people whom had managed to break the frozen chasm around her heart; teaching her how to trust, to care, to love again…if anything threatened them, then there was no denying that the raven haired beauty was undoubtedly apprehensive.

"Sorry," stepping on the gas pedal when the light finally turned green; betrayed by her teetering will power as she gave in and gnawed on her blunt nails – needing a quick fix. "I'm just…you know."

"Yeah, me too."

The stifling atmosphere felt claustrophobic as thoughts of Penelope filled the cramped SUV with knotted tension. JJ's fidgeting habits – constantly checking her cell phone and firmly tapping her fingers against the arm rest, were slowly starting to grate on Emily's already frazzled nerves.

"I'm sure she's fine Jayje," hoping the use of her nickname would have a calming effect.

"Garcia had a panic attack!" her voice; strained and pitchy, was a sure sign that she was scared.

Emily glared, trying to pass slower vehicles – fighting the urge to blare the sirens and cut through the morning traffic.

"We'll be there in a few minutes," Emily huffed, though she wasn't entirely sure who she was trying to reassure.

JJ reclined back in the cushioned seat and crossed her arms; cold silence filling the vehicle once again, until they reached another red light.

"She…she sounded so sad," JJ checked her phone once more, not wanting to miss any calls from her friend. "I…I thought that, after that night, that…you know. The two of them would just get together, make it official. And everything would…be okay."

Emily reached out and awkwardly grasped JJ's hand; giving it a gentle squeeze, needing to help ease the rigidity that had settled around the duo like a second skin.

Though the moment Garcia's apartment complex finally came into view her heart seized; thrumming frantically against her chest. She gripped the steering wheel once more when the memory of that morning came rushing back, forcing her to slam on the brake as she swerved into a parking spot.

* * *

_ _Flashback: Morning_ _

"Garcia!" Hotch's firm stoicism faltered briefly as he hunched over the table and glared at the speaker phone.

Broken sobs, riddled with quick panting breaths and childlike whimpers, was their only response.

"Penelope!" JJ stood up, arms firmly crossed in front of her; wrinkling her crisp button up shirt, as she paced back and forth. "Hey, Garcie! I need you to breath for me okay?"

"I…I…He's so mad!" Garcia choked out only for the shattering of glass to reverberate around the cramped conference room. "Oh frack! I…I didn't mean…I'm sorry!"

"Kitten, whose mad at you?" Rossi remained in his seat but leaned closer; body rigid with tension.

"E-Every…o-one is!" she cried.

"Chérie s'il te plait, calme-toi, fais le pour moi," Holly's southern, honey voice pushed through the crowd as she stepped forward next to Aaron.

"J'ai vraiment merdé," Garcia whimpered, coughing harshly to clear her throat. "Tout est faux!"

"Shh, shh," Holly cooed, sliding her glasses back up the bridge of her nose as she anxiously tapped her manicured nails against the table. "Comptez jusqu'à trois avec moi, okay!"

"No-oo," she wailed, and Emily could imagine Garcia's face pouting in defiance.

"Penelope Lorelai Esperanza Garcia!" Holly scolded delicately. "Comptez jusqu'à trois avec moi!"

Her harsh sobs had faded, but her frantic breathing was still a cause for concern. Emily held her breath as she watched the woman who seemed to have a maternal role in her friend's life and she suddenly felt horrible for not knowing who Holly was – being able to speak French, she was also anxiously waiting for Penelope to start counting; realizing it was a calming tactic.

"One…," came a soft voice over the phone through strained breaths and tearful sniffles. "T-Two…"

"You're doing great, Sweat Pea!" Holly smiled, taking a seat as she pulled the phone closer to herself, almost as if she was physically reaching out for Penelope.

"Three…In," she gasped out, taking a deep breath – holding it, then exhaling it calmly.

"Just focus on my voice," Holly encouraged. "One…two…three…in."

Garcia took another deep breath, panting as she exhaled.

"Can you count it for me, Penelope?"

"Y-Yeah..." she laughed, though it held no merriment. "One…t-two…three…in."

Emily listened intently, feeling her body relax as Holly talked Pen through a few more meditative rounds that thankfully helped soothe Penelope's attack, and it wasn't until Holly started cajoling her with French endearments that Emily tried to figure out what triggered the whole incident.

 _An engagement? To Lynch?_

Her focus shifted towards Morgan, and it was only then that she realized Garcia's Hot Stuff hadn't tried to help soothe his Baby Girl's fears. Prentiss' brows furrowed in confusion, though once she caught sight of his clenched jaw and simmering eyes staring down the phone, she knew something was terribly wrong.

"Garcia?" Hotch's concerned voice rang out.

"Yes, Sir?" her voice was slowly coming under control, and if Emily hadn't been sitting here the whole time, she wouldn't even be able to tell that Garcia had been under duress.

Hotch picked up the phone and turned away from everyone as he talked quickly and quietly to their technical analyst; a few moments later he hung up and gave Derek a pointed look, then glanced at JJ and Emily.

"I need you two, to go check up on her. We don't have any new cases today, but we still have active ones," he looked back at Derek and held out his hand, face frozen in barely tempered anger. "Give them your spare key."

_ _End of Flashback_ _

* * *

To be continued…

Miel, s'il vous plaît calmer pour moi: Honey, please calm down for me.

Je vraiment merdé: I really fucked up

Tout est faux: Everything is wrong

Comptez jusqu'à trois avec moi: Count to three with me


	11. VIII: II

**A/N I do not own Criminal Minds. I want to thank everyone who has been reading, your support is appreciated!  
**

 **Warning: Coarse Language.**

 **Please, enjoy!**

 **Lunar Cocoon**

Chapter VIII: Part II

Just because Penelope Garcia was known for twirling into a room on high platforms or stilettos, wearing flashy vibrant outfits dazzled in trinkets, flowers and jangling bracelets, did not mean that she was fond of being the center of attention. Having trained herself to be fiercely independent after losing her family, she had grown accustomed to taking care of all of her problems, alone.

She was a worrier by nature; got paid to worry. Spent her days tucked inside the dark confines of her lair, fussing over computer screens – making sure that every time the team was out in the field, her magical tech savvy skills would keep them safe and sound.

And as the splintering headache, pulsing across her pounding temple faded, Penelope soon understood the conundrum that she had gotten herself into. Sitting on the purple sofa, mouth suddenly dry as she stared at her phone; hating the fact that the team had just heard one of her panic attacks, and judging from the brisk tone of Hotch's command and JJ's frantic pleas to calm down, she knew they were definitely concerned about her.

Guilt infused her sore, exhausted body when she realized the team's attention was focused solely on her and not on a case – ones that needed to be solved, in order to save someone's life from the crazy hands of some vile Unsub.

Nibbling on her quivering bottom lip; she took a few deep breaths and tried to find the energy to fix this mess. Then the distinct untwisting of the bolted lock, followed by the front door swinging wide open, startled her already flustered mind. Panic shot down her spine, springing up, she grabbed the closest object near her – a heavy wine bottle.

Holding it defensively out in front of her, ready to throw it at the person who interrupted her sulking sanctuary, only for a whirlwind of raven fury to storm into her cluttered apartment – hand tucked securely on her holster, Emily's dark, whiskey eyes quickly scanned the room.

Penelope's sharp squeal of surprise, drew Emily's worried gaze towards the sofa. A warm smile, softened her features as she held her hands up in a calming gesture, only for JJ's soothing voice to shatter the silent tension.

"Garcie!" JJ cooed, slowly stepping closer.

"Huh?" Penelope licked her lips; managing a small gurgle of confusion.

It wasn't until her blonde beauty gently eased the bottle out of her tight grasp, that she realized her hands were shaking, knees wobbling, and it was at that exact moment when the searing pain of embedded glass stung the open wounds of her bare, battered feet and she realized just how long she had been sitting there; frozen with her thoughts.

"Oh, _oww_!" she cried out, stumbling forward – grateful for her friend's steadying arms, as they slumped back down onto the soft, purple cushions.

"What's wrong?" steel blue eyes narrowed with concern; JJ's motherly instincts kicking in as she brought the back of her hand to Penelope's sweaty forehead. "You're a little warm," feeling her shift next to her, only to cluck her tongue. "Pen, did you drink all of this?" pointing to the cluttered coffee table.

"What?" blinking her eyes, feeling suddenly childlike – completely and utterly lost.

"Three wine bottles and tequila!" JJ screeched, causing Garcia to jerk away and clamp her eyes shut. "Sorry," she quickly whispered; tucking a loose copper curl behind Penelope's ear.

"Here you go," Emily's raspy drawl had her slowly easing her eyes back open.

"Thank you," quickly popping the pills into her mouth, greedily taking a giant swig of water – nearly finishing half the glass, before slamming it onto the table. "What are you guys doing here?" tossing the pair a wide smile as she quickly tried to primp herself; gasping in embarrassment when she discovered the top of her lace bra was showing – quickly tugging her floral sundress up and running a hand through her hair only to get it caught in the tangled curls, and growl in frustration.

"Hey… _hey!_ " JJ grabbed her hands, effectively stopping her movements by holding them in her lap. "Are you okay? What happened on the phone?"

Emily perched herself directly in front of her, on the edge of the coffee table; face scrunched in concentration as she discreetly profiled the frazzled tech.

"I-I…nothing's wrong," shaking her head, only to bite her lip as that familiar woozy feeling flooded her senses. "I missed my…alarm, is all. Forgot to set it," waving her hand around; hoping they would leave it at that, and let her get dressed, so they could get back to work. "Really you didn't have to come over. This Goddess is fine! I just-"

"You're bleeding," Emily's stern observation had her body flushing from hot to cold with sudden awareness – like being caught with a hand in the cookie jar.

"What!" she squeaked out, quickly looking at her hands, only to startle when Emily gently reached for her leg and raised her foot. " _Oh_ …"

Jennifer's sharp gasp had Penelope wincing as another bout of embarrassed guilt coursed through her veins. Bolting up, JJ rushed off to the bathroom to get an emergency kit.

Meanwhile Emily had rested Garcia's damaged feet on her lap, while her dark eyes followed the small dried-up, bloody path from the kitchen to the living room – spotting shards of glass that littered the floor, only to look back up and catch her friend's exhausted gaze. She was just about to ask what had happened, only for JJ's harsh voice to shatter the tense silence.

"What is _tha_ t?" she barked, bright blue eyes spitting fire as she plopped back onto the sofa, and gently but firmly lifted Penelope's bruised wrist – the dark purple and blue looked violent against her pale skin. "Did…did Derek do _this_?"

Emily scolded herself for not having caught that injury, though as her gaze narrowed and jaw clenched, she remembered her conversation with Derek. His defeated posture, an abrasive exposure that was so unlike the normally suave and potently virile Agent, that she knew without a doubt, Derek wouldn't lay a hand on his Baby Girl. However, his wounds from that morning was the cause for JJ's bristling concern.

Feeling Penelope pulling away, she clutched Garcia's feet, holding her in place and forcing her to look at them. "Penelope?" waiting, needing an explanation.

Like a wild animal suddenly caged, Penelope felt the overwhelming claustrophobia surge back to life; hiding behind mirthless laughter, trying to shake off their rapt attention, only for her mind to drift once more.

* * *

_ _Flashback: Night Before_ _

 _She watched his eyes narrow into angry slits. "He left, Penelope."_

 _She looked away, the wound was still too fresh and the insult felt like a slap to her face. "Stop it," her voice sounded small, even to her own ears._

 _"But I'm still here," lifting her chin with his hand, forcing their eyes to meet. "I didn't leave you."_

Cruelly twisting the knife into the seeping wound that had haunted her – taunting her with the fact that Derek had indeed left her that morning. Letting her wake up to a cold, empty bed; having to face her boyfriend's callous temper all alone, as she tried to explain those love bites that marred her beautiful skin with evidence of their debauchery.

Nerves shattered, feeling trapped, she pushed away from Kevin's tight grasp, twirled on her heels and rushed out the front door.

"Penny!" he hollered, slamming the door behind him as he stumbled after her.

The cold night air pricked at her skin, forcing her to clutch the thin cardigan around her as she made her way down the long driveway.

"I'm just gonna call a cab, Kevin!" she shouted over the wind; fumbling with her heavy purse as she desperately tried to find her cellphone.

"Damn it!" he mumbled, tripping on the bottom step and barreling into the wrought iron railing. "Would you slow down!"

Teetering on her heels; sensitive heart wanting to make sure he wasn't hurt, Penelope slowly turned around – watching as he rubbed his hip, only for him to give her that lopsided smile she once found adorable, when he realized he had her attention.

Glancing up, she caught his family's concerned faces through the immaculate glass panes of the large bay window – Mary's raised chin and narrowed gaze, peering down on her with that snide, pretentious judgement, and that was all the motivation she needed to whirl back around and take off.

Needing to get far, far away, from the Lynch's.

Making it to the end of the driveway, only to suddenly be jerked back and shoved, rather harshly, into a parked car. His stubby fingers dug into her soft skin, pushing her into the cool metal, as his hot, boozy breath washed over her.

"Kevin!" she shouted, fed up with his drunken antics. "Knock it off!"

"You didn't…answer my question," he slurred.

"What?" panic coiled in her gut at his closeness – reminded of the incident in her bedroom, that was still so vivid in her mind.

"Plum Sauce," one hand clutched at her hip, while the other firmly grabbed her chin. "Will you…be my wife?"

Throat constricting, she froze.

Then she shook her head; feeling tears spring from her eyes, blurring her vision.

"Two years," he growled. "I stuck around for two fucking years…"

"Kev-," she started, only for him to grip her cheeks and slam her head back into the car door.

"I don't wanna hear it!" he cried, dark eyes glazed with inebriated anger. "What is wrong with you?" taking his hands to cup her face, tilting her glasses. " _Derek…doesn't…love you_!" speaking slowly, a condescending taunt.

Clamping her eyes shut, she pushed at his chest, not wanting to hear the thing she most feared.

"Stop it!" she gritted out, only for his nasty chuckle to drown her out.

"You've known him for what?" fingers catching her curls, tugging harshly on her scalp. "Five years! And he finally decides to make a move," his voice dropped, releasing her face only to rest his arms on the window next to her head – blocking her in, as he consumed her space, waiting for her to look at him, and once she did, he fired the final shot. "That's not love, Penelope. That was a pity fuck. And you know it."

The shuddering gasp left her lips; shocked at his cruel words and she let the tears finally fall.

"Your _Hot Stuff_ also said he loved you after you got shot," shaking his head in disbelief. "And yet, did he ask you out?" peering over his thick black frames, waiting for her response, though already knowing the answer. "No, he didn't," clucking his tongue, lowering his hand, using the pad of his thumb to gently wipe away a stray tear. "So, what makes _Alaska_ , any different?"

Derek's whispered words from that passion fueled night sounded like a distant memory. A teasing caress that had her knees buckle in anguish.

"It…it was different…" mustering up courage she didn't think she had, daring to look up at him.

"When are you going to stop lying to yourself!" he roared, hand dropping to her flared hip, fingers dancing over the curve of her ass. "Desperation is not a good look on you, Penny."

Looking away – not liking this side of her boyfriend, as he made her feel pathetic, weak, and above all else, helpless. Her fierce independence, seeming to crumble beneath her struggling grasp, being replaced with terrified reliance for the only man who stuck around. Taking a shuddering breath, blinking away the tears, only to spot Eric staring back at them from the front porch.

She froze as Kevin leaned forward, peppering her neck and jaw with kisses, only to tug her face back towards him – capturing her lips in a wet, sloppy kiss, that had her nearly gagging in response.

"Can't you see I love you," pushing his knee between her legs, pressing her body into the car. "I've given you everything," lowering his hand to squeeze her ass. "You lied to me, _cheated_ on me, and yet…I'm still here."

"K-Kevin," she choked out, trying to pull his hand away, only for his vicious comment to twist the seeping wound in her chest.

"You're gonna be forty in a few years," dragging his hand through her copper locks, only to grab a handful and yank her head back. "I mean look at you," dropping a hand to the soft swell of her belly, teasing, what she believed to be her biggest flaw. "You're not even his type. Why would a man like Derek, _choose you_?"

His harsh words forced her to face years of devastating insecurities.

"But I love you, just the way you are," smiling when her lip quivered, and she began to sniffle. "I know you want to start a family," lowering his voice, dropping his head into the crook of her neck. "I want to have kids with you, Penelope. I'm finally ready."

Knowing her dream of becoming a mother; a winning hand he methodically played.

"Marry me," he rasped out, bringing his lips down for another kiss. "Let me give you what you want."

The cold metal band was slipped onto her finger, forcing her hand – chilling her body to the core.

"Tell me, Penny," tucking a flouncy curl behind her ear. "You can fix everything. Just tell me, you want this."

Migraine pulsing viciously in her clouded mind, feeling exhausted, trapped, and completely defeated, she nodded her head and bit back a sob as he jumped with joy.

"You just made me the happiest man in Virginia," he whooped, clapping his hands, only to spot his brother. "She said yes!" he shouted, giving her a quick peck on the cheek before stumbling his way back towards the house.

Penelope stood there, the weight of the ring feeling like a detrimental mistake, though she lacked the energy to protest. Wanting to curl into a ball and cry herself to sleep.

Feeling a presence hovering near her, she looked up, catching Eric's concerned gaze.

"Congratulations," he offered, giving her a soft smile, so unlike Kevin's cold, crooked grin. Holding his arms out, enveloping her into a big, warm hug – his large hands rubbed her back as he tucked her closely to him. "Welcome to the family, Penelope."

_ _End of Flashback_ _

* * *

"Penelope," JJ's worried voice dragged her away from the memory, bringing her back to the present. "Where'd you go?"

"I-I…" biting her bottom lip, eyes darting around the room – wanting to tell her friends everything, but not knowing how. "Sorry, headache," was all she managed, hissing a breath as Emily inspected her foot.

"Well good news, I don't think you need stitches," Emily shifted through the emergency kit. "Bad news, we need to get those shards of glass out and it's probably gonna sting," giving her a gentle smile. "And you're not gonna be able to wear those flashy high heels for a while."

Penelope smiled despite the pain, giving a simple nod; fingers clutching into the sofa cushions as she braced herself. Though the tension rolling off of JJ, had her glancing towards her friend.

"Are you gonna tell us what happened?" her normally soft voice was strained; clipped and to the point.

Huffing her matted bangs out of her face, she decided to stick to the facts. "I had too much to drink," staring at the liquor bottles, grinding her teeth as Emily pulled on a sensitive spot of skin. "Dropped a glass and stepped on it."

"We got that." JJ's narrowed gaze was relentless. "What about the bruise?"

"It's nothing," shrugging her shoulders. "Just dinged it against something is all."

"Derek came to work with a gash on his cheek and a split lip," Emily added, holding the tweezers above Garcia's foot. "I'm hoping it's not related, to whatever happened here."

Hearing his name, she froze – anger, guilt, and that gnawing sadness prickled down her spine and settled in her gut, causing nausea to sweep through her once more.

"Oh…" staring down at her lap. "Is…is he okay?"

"His ego's bruised, but he'll live," Emily bit out, arching a knowing brow when Penelope looked up at her – treading on thin ice, she switched her tactics. "What was Holly talking about?"

Penelope watched as Emily's eyes darted to the puny diamond ring, asking the question that was clearly the elephant in the room.

"Kevin proposed," she whispered, fighting back the tears – aware that such an announcement should bring her joy, not terrified regret.

"What about Derek?" JJ shot back – not understanding how her two friends had ended up so lost in just a few short days.

"What about him?" Penelope gritted out; eyes blazing with fury, causing Emily to smile – realizing they had struck a nerve.

"Garcia," trying to be soothing, but needing an honest answer – Emily glanced at JJ, who nodded her agreement; taking a breath, she took a chance. "We know what happened in Alaska."

Penelope froze, eyes startled open, only to tug her feet out of Emily's grasp and bolt upright.

"Be careful," JJ cried, trying to get her to sit back down, only for her to pull away and huddle in the corner of the living room, glaring at her friends.

"W-What!" she sputtered, hands flailing in front of her. "What do you know!"

"You _and_ Derek," was her simple response.

Penelope stared at Emily, then glanced at JJ, whose comforting smile snapped the last tether of her control, and she let out an embarrassed wail.

"Oh, my god!" she cried, pacing back and forth, ignoring the sharp jagged splinters shooting through her feet. "You know! How do you know?" stopping to glare, only to shake her head. "Never mind! Oh, god…you heard?" covering her eyes, forcing the tears back down. "Everything?" peeking them open, only to gasp when they nodded.

"Hey!" JJ shot up, stepping towards her friend only to freeze when Penelope stepped back. "We're not judging you," giving her a warm smile. "In fact, we're surprised it took you two this long." Emily snorted her agreement, as JJ tried to urge her back onto the sofa.

Though her innocent remark, sparked the spiteful words of Kevin…

 _Five years_ – that's how long they've known each other – though Derek _, never asked her out_.

 _It was a pity fuck._

 _Derek…doesn't…love you._

Mean, vicious words flooded her mind, as that bitter, desperation seized her chest, causing her to fumble, and collapse to the ground.

JJ and Emily barely had time to catch her as she finally broke down – shattering into deep, aching sobs, as she clung to them.

To be continued…


	12. VIII: III

**A/N I do not own Criminal Minds. I want to thank everyone who has been reading, your support is appreciated!  
**

 **Warning: Sexual Situations, Coarse Language & Violence.**

 **Please, enjoy!**

 **Lunar Cocoon**

Chapter VIII: Part III

He didn't bother to knock, instead, he let the door slam shut behind him.

"What do you want, Rossi?"

Dropping a slice of pizza and a can of soda onto the other man's desk, he pulled out a chair and made himself comfortable.

"You, tell me," David growled, taking a big bite out of his own warm slice – hating the poor version of his favorite Italian cuisine, but beggars couldn't be choosers at the Quantico cafeteria.

"I'm working," he gritted out; glaring across the desk.

David arched a brow, waving his pizza at the closed case file. "Is that what you call it?"

"Damn it, Rossi!" Derek roared, tossing his pen onto the heavy oak – not in the mood to deal with what would surely be an interrogation.

Chewing on a rather large bite, David popped the soda open and swigged the sugary treat – letting the tension simmer between them. They had nowhere to be, they had all day…and he had no problem waiting for a proper response.

Morgan mumbled a few curses, only to grab the pizza off his desk and munch on it – a poor attempt at buying time.

"Who sucker punched you?" that lilt of amusement, buffering his concern.

"Kevin's brother," Derek gritted out, tearing off a piece of crust, only to toss it onto the paper plate.

That got Rossi's attention; straightening his back, he leaned forward. "Why?"

"I went to go see Garcia last night," fists clenching at the memory. "Eric was dropping her off, caught them in the hallway. I wanted to talk, and he got in my face," shrugging his shoulders, popping the crispy bread into his mouth and wiping his hands on his jeans.

"And," Rossi prompted.

"And what?"

"Don't get smart with me," Rossi stood up, tossing his lunch into the trash. "What's wrong with Penelope?"

Nostrils flaring, jaw clenching, at the flood of emotions that name stoked inside of him – trying to tamp it all down, as he felt the other Agent's narrowed gaze.

"Lynch proposed, and she said yes," taking a calming breath, eyes staring at the spot on the wall above Rossi's head.

"She didn't have a panic attack because she's engaged to that weasel," David bite out, dousing Derek with the cold, bitter truth. "Something happened between you two?" though it was a question, there was no denying the knowing accusation behind his words.

Meeting his eyes, Derek stared the older man down – trying to build up the walls of his broken defenses, that Penelope had so easily obliterated in one night.

"Are you done?" his voice low, a lethal growl.

"For now," Rossi grumbled, stopping at the door. "But if Kitten was crying over you…" giving him a pointed look that brooked no argument – letting the threat hang in the air, before storming out of the office.

Derek kicked the edge of the desk; letting the simmering anger quake through his body, before dragging a hand over his face and slumping in defeat – deciding to stay locked in his office for the rest of the day.

* * *

Her friends encouraging words, as they calmed her down and bandaged her feet, had lulled Penelope to sleep. Waking up hours later, she found herself unmoving, staring at the full moon outside the living room window.

Eyes still stinging from her bout of heavy crying, mind throbbing with that tender migraine that just wouldn't go away, and though she had found the teeniest of reprieves from her break down, there was no comfort to be had from the hollow shell that bubbled up inside of her.

Feeling like she was drowning at sea, needing to find her _anchor_ in the storm – the only person who could make the searing pain go away. Yet, she couldn't call him, refusing to be the _desperate_ , chubby, dorky tech girl vying for his attention.

Derek had his chance, and he blew it.

Though her heart screamed that her best friend wasn't like that, wasn't the vindictive monster Kevin had made him out to be – knowing he would never willingly hurt her. However, her sensitive soul was beyond reason, refusing to see the facts as she mourned the loss of their short affair.

Finding a glimmer of gratitude at having tasted the sweetest nirvana she would ever have the luxury of finding on this Earth. Derek was everything she had imagined him to be as a lover – shattering all her expectations and ruining her for any other man.

It had truly been great, while it lasted.

Taking a deep breath, rolling over on the couch, only to freeze when the jangling of keys sounded outside her door. She had but a moment to gather her thoughts before it flung open, revealing Kevin, who was trying to balance bags full of take out, a bottle of wine, and a flimsy flower bouquet.

"Hiya, Plum Sauce," kicking the door shut with his foot, as he clomped over to her – dropping everything onto the coffee table, and handing her the flowers. "These are for you," flashing her a toothy grin.

Penelope peered over her frames, staring up at him in shock – briefly hesitating, before taking the orange and yellow roses, with the large white one in the center. She loved flowers and especially loved colors – knowing immediately what it represented…friendship, passion and new starts.

It was such a Kevin thing to do; attempting a thoughtful gesture by not only getting her least favorite flower, but by also getting the most unromantic variety. Her lips quirked, because for the moment everything began to feel familiar – deceptively fooling her nerves into relaxation.

"Thanks," she murmured, smelling the fresh, sweet aroma, watching as he laid out the spread from their favorite Indian-Chinese fusion restaurant. Biting her cheek in annoyance, as he pulled out boxes of meat, thinking she was going to have to settle for a plate full of stir-fried noodles, when he completely surprised her by holding up a deliciously smelling vegetarian dish.

"Thought I forgot?" he chuckled, opening up chop sticks as he plopped down next to her. "It's a spicy tofu curry. I think you'll like it."

All she could do was blink, mouth hanging open, unsure of what to say or do – not yet fully trusting him, but too tired to argue.

"Looks good," and it certainly smelt good, her mouth was watering – realizing she hadn't eaten much that day, but half a grilled cheese sandwich courtesy of JJ.

Taking a large bite, and then another and another, completely forgetting about the man sitting next to her until he held the glass of wine in front of her. Attempting to look sheepish, she wiped her mouth and took the liquor she shouldn't be drinking, but greatly needed.

Swigging it down, enjoying the strong berry flavor, wishing it was something a little stronger, with a more pungent kick. Pouring herself another glass instead, she scooted to the far end of the sofa, letting Kevin turn on the TV and flip through the channels, while she finished her dinner.

Easily settling back into their normal routine. It was so disturbing, Penelope started to wonder if the last few days had even happened, but when she took another bite – catching sight of the little rock on her finger, she took a deep breath knowing it hadn't been a horrible dream.

"Kevin," she started, putting her bowl down, hugging a fuzzy throw pillow.

"Hmm," slurping up noodles; staring at the screen as he wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

"What…what are we…doing?" bracing herself, not wanting to anger him, but she was too curious, too stubborn, to sit there like nothing had changed between them.

"Eating dinner," there was a distinct rasp to his voice, letting her know that he knew damn well what she was referring to.

"Shouldn't we talk about-…" she started, only for him to put his plate down.

"There's nothing to talk about," shrugging his shoulders. "You made a mistake. And I forgave you."

Penelope felt a prickle of irritation break through the frozen chasm of her heart, causing her to sit upright. "We need to talk about it!"

Turning the volume up as he slumped back into the sofa. "Not now."

"When?" she cried,

"Why are you so set on ruining everything?" glaring over the wine glass as he took a large swig.

"I'm not…it's just…" waving her hands around, trying to find the questions she needed to ask for answers she didn't know she needed.

"I'm marrying you," putting the glass down, as he shifted to face her. "Don't you want us to be happy?"

That nauseating guilt engulfed her once again, forcing her to lower her gaze.

"I do…it's just…" nibbling on her bottom lip, trying to muster up courage. " _Why_?"

"Why?" frowning; scrunching his nose in contemplation. "Why do I want to marry you?"

"Yes!" she squeaked, taking a deep breath. "Why do you want to marry me?"

"Because I love you, Penny," grabbing her hand, giving her knuckles a sloppy kiss.

She shook her head, pulling away – mind still cluttered with confusion; not understanding.

Then before she could think clearly; unable to stop the words from rushing out, she shouted. "I cheated on you! I fucked another man while we were dating? Why do you want to marry-…"

The stinging slap was so sudden and jarring – forcing her head to snap back, as her pink glasses flew off her face, and her vision blurred with an explosion of splintering pain.

"Fuck!" he growled, shaking out the palm of his hand. "Look what you made me do!"

Penelope was stunned, mouth hanging open – holding her cheek and split lip; hating the bitter iron taste that flooded her mouth.

He reached for her, but she jerked away, though her reflexes were slowed from the rolling nausea that swept through her.

"Let me see," he cooed; tugging her towards him, forcing her to sit on his lap.

Tears stung her eyes, seeping down her cheeks, and she looked away, only for him to firmly grasp her chin and inspect her face.

"Baby, I'm so sorry," he cried, giving the reddened mark sweet, gentle kisses, as he grabbed a napkin off the coffee table and pressed it to her lip. "Shh, please don't cry."

Penelope was shaking with fear, gasping for breath. "Let me go," she murmured, struggling out of his grasp only for him to hold on tighter.

"Shh…it's okay!" peppering her face with kisses, fingers digging into the flesh of her hip as he held her to him.

"P-Please," she cried, clamping her eyes shut only for an image of Derek to flash in her mind – swallowing a choked sob, desperately wanting the warm, safe embrace of her Hot Stuff, but knowing she couldn't have it.

"Plum Sauce, look at me," tucking loose copper curls behind her ear. "Please, baby, look at me."

Blinking away her tears, finally opening her eyes, only to catch his dark, simmering gaze.

"Let me make it better," hand dropping to her thigh, raising the soft cotton of her dress.

Shaking her head, pushing away from him. "N-No!" she choked out. "Kevin…stop it!"

"Why don't you trust me?" his lip curled, revealing that crooked grin.

"I-I…Kevin…" she could feel her lip swelling, her cheek was still hot and stinging; nerves completely shattered.

"Let me, Penny," hand raising higher, latching onto the thin panel of her lace panties and with a quick, forceful tug, he tore the fabric and yanked them off of her.

His hand found her center; playing with the soft tuft of curls, before dipping his finger between her lower lips, were he greedily circled her hidden nub – knowing a few of her switches, stimulating her body.

It was a cruel, callous betrayal, that had her frozen to the spot.

His finger lowered; nudging her entrance, forcing it inside of her.

The intrusive probing had her buck against him – finding renewed strength, clawing at his chest only for him to stand up and toss her back onto the sofa. He was on her in an instant, spreading her legs wide and laying all of his weight on top of her.

"Shh," showering open mouth kisses on her neck, dragging his lips across the top swells of her breasts. "Stop fighting me!"

"Please, Kevin!" she cried, trying to push him off, but he was too heavy, too consuming. "Get off of me!"

"You let _Derek_ touch you," he growled, eyes darkening with glittering rage – obviously reaching his breaking point, and suddenly Penelope hated her stubborn independence - wishing she had made JJ and Emily stay the night with her, instead of convincing them that she was okay. "I'm your fiancé!" grabbing both of her wrists in his large hand, holding them high above her head. "I should be the _only one_ who gets to touch you."

"N-No!" she stuttered, trying to lift her legs, but it was no use.

"Let me make you feel good," kissing her lips, only to bite down on the bruised flesh, tugging on her bottom lip – causing her to wince in pain, only for his next words to freeze her blood. "Besides, you _owe_ me an apology."

Gasping, feeling his stubby digits invade her once more – spearing the dry flesh between her legs, only for his thumb to harshly circle her clit, causing her to cry out.

And as he panted heavily above her, whispering dirty promises, she felt the last tethers of her control snap – disappearing from her eyes as she violently shook beneath him.

 _One…two…three…in –_ chanting the mantra to herself as she tried to forget where she was.

To be continued…


	13. VIII: IV

**A/N I do not own Criminal Minds. I want to thank everyone who has been reading, your support is appreciated! I will be working on Cabaret with Chardonnay next for you all, to help balance the drama in this story!  
**

 **Warning: Sexual Situations, Coarse Language & Violence.**

 **Please, enjoy!**

 **Lunar Cocoon**

Chapter VIII: Part IV

Penelope was wearing so many layers of foundation; had been reapplying it all morning and afternoon, that she now looked like a sickly, clown-like version, of her normally vibrant self. Digging the brush into the powder, she harshly wiped her tear stained cheeks, as she frantically tried to calm her breathing.

Her computers chimed, multiple alerts popping up with results from various searches. _Work, focus on work_. That helped ease the boiling anxiety that was festering in her bones like a disease. Tossing the compact mirror into her purse, she took a deep breath and rolled back over to the cluttered desk.

Eyes quickly scanning the screens, she hit number two on her speed dial, and in a short mundane conversation, relayed the new information to Hotch – laughing off that worried lilt that laced his voice; fully aware that it was odd that she hadn't yet patched through visually while they were on the jet, choosing instead to call her boss with updates.

They got a new case last night, and Penelope had never been more grateful to come into work. Though her spirit was drained, body bordering on fatigue and not feeling up to questioning gazes, she had deliberately missed the round-table meeting – arriving late, and locking herself in the safety of her lair, where she had kept hidden all day.

The loud rumbling of her tummy, had her glancing at the clock; shocked to discover it was almost three in the afternoon and she had completely missed breakfast and lunch. Setting up a few new searches to run, she grabbed her favorite octopus mug; quickly checking the sleeves of her cardigan, before slowly heading towards the kitchenette – gritting her teeth at the dull ache that pulsed between her legs.

Sighing with relief when she spotted the sparse bullpen, she glanced around, and then took her time shifting through the fridge. Tossing away last week's leftover salad, she was left with yogurt and a string cheese, though she really didn't mind as the lingering queasiness from last night had her lacking any appetite.

Waiting for the water to warm up for her lavender tea, deciding to nibble on a tasteless granola bar, she startled when a sharp feminine voice shattered the silence.

"Excuse me?" said the tall woman, with dazzling russet eyes and beautiful tawny skin.

"Hi," Penelope squeaked, wiping her blouse of granola crumbs. "Can I help you?"

"Yes," the woman stepped forward, holding a container with two Styrofoam cups of coffee and a bag of pastries. "Gosh, I can't believe I'm even here right now!" her twinkling laugh felt forced, but genuine. "I just…I don't normally do this kind of thing."

Sizing the woman up, with her killer long legs and wide, flashy smile; a physique any sane woman would die for. The total, perfect package. Warning bells chimed in the recesses of her mind and Penelope suddenly felt defensive. She didn't have to be a profiler to know that this woman was a living, breathing prototype of Morgan's typical flock of females from his pool of casual dates.

"Are you…looking for _someone_?" her breath hitched; feeling her heart sluggishly flutter against her chest.

"Yes, sorry!" stepping forward; visitor badge dangling around her neck, eyes darting around the room. "I'm _Dr. Hayes_. I work at Bethesda General Hospital." shrugging her shoulders with mock indifference. "I helped stitch up Agent Morgan the other night."

"Oh," swallowing the heavy weight of her suddenly parched tongue.

"He was a great patient. Very sweet, super charming." cocking her hip, shifting in her polished black Louboutins; a pair, Penelope couldn't help but be jealous of. "Well, like I said. I don't normally do this, _but_ …"

"You wanted to make sure he was okay?" she knew the answer before she even asked the question and yet, she still wasn't ready for the gut clenching betrayal.

"Oh, no," giggling; leaning in close to whisper. "I kinda wanted to ask him out."

"He's on a case right now," eyes narrowed as she spun around on her strappy yellow sandals, busying herself with making her tea.

"Oh…" huffing with an air of annoyance; dolefully tossing the pastries and coffees into the trash can. "When will he be back?"

"Not sure," plastering a wide grin upon her face; trying her best to hide the emotional turmoil dancing around her exhausted mind.

"Well, it was worth a shot," tossing her sleek chestnut locks over her shoulders; eyes narrowing when she caught sight of her face.

Without thinking Penelope's hand shot up to her cheek; feeling the sticky layer of gloss upon her lips – though the woman's arched brow and sympathetic smile, had her anxiety surging back to life.

"Sorry, I have to get back to work," grabbing her things, she quickly sidestepped around the woman and teetered her way back down the long hallway.

Making it to her lair, she slammed the door shut and slumped against it – breathing erratically, as she willed the tears not to fall.

 _Had that night meant nothing to him? It obviously didn't, since he was already flirting with other women!_

Though it didn't make sense, she couldn't blame him. Penelope after all, was engaged to Kevin.

Thinking about her boyfriend…scratch that, her _fiancé,_ made her want to toss her cookies. Throwing her snacks away, she wobbled over to her chair and plopped down into it.

She had fought so valiantly last night; made every effort to not taint the thing she cherished most with her best friend. Not wanting Kevin to touch her, forcing her to do _things_ she wasn't fond of doing, because she was still holding on to that sliver of hope that Derek was going to come back to her. Help her fix this giant mess, she had gotten herself into.

But now…now it felt as if she had fought in vain. Had lost the battle before it had even started. That dreadful repulsion snaked through her body – leaving her feeling like a cheap bimbo.

Clutching the cardigan to herself, wiping the tears away as the memory of last night washed over her.

* * *

_ _Flashback_ _

His stubby fingers probed, twisted and stroked between her legs with a hard, rhythmic thrust that had her writhing in pain.

"K-Kevin!" she gasped, fingers clutching the front of his shirt. "Please stop…it…it hurts!"

"Shh, baby," dropping his head into the crook of her neck, latching onto the tender skin above her collarbone – grazing it with his teeth before biting down; drawing a strangled scream from her bruised lips. "Just relax."

Tears blurred her vision as she pushed against him – successfully getting a leg loose, raising it, only for him to hook his arm underneath her knee and spread her wider; leaning all his weight on top of her.

"I can't… _breathe_!" she panted, jerking her head away – feeling that frenzied panic splintering down her spine.

Then to her horror, he tugged down his zipper; forcing her self-preservation to kick in and change tactics.

Wiggling an arm loose, she brought a hand to his face – clutching his chin, making him look at her. "Baby, please," she cried, gently rubbing her fingers along his reddened cheeks. " _Please_ …"

Though he didn't stop, he did slow his movements; lowering his forehead to rest on hers. "I wanna make you happy, Penny," giving her nose a soft peck. "Why are you always fighting me?"

"I'm not…" hating the waver in her voice, sounding so weak and pathetic.

Blinking away the tears, she finally looked up – catching those soft brown eyes, now dark with determination, and that crooked, haunting grin flashing upon his face as he began tugging off his jeans.

"Let me do it!" she shouted; shocking herself with the declaration – taking a shuddering breath when he froze above her.

The harsh crinkles around his eyes softened, and he captured her lips with a sloppy kiss as he lifted his hips. Taking the hint, she pushed the denim down his thighs, and suddenly the foreign thought had her gut churning with defeat.

Leaning forward, she brushed her lips against his – closing her eyes, breathing through the disgust at what she was planning on doing. "I…I want to…make you feel good," hoping she sounded more convincing then she felt.

She just couldn't fathom having sex with him, not when she distinctly remembered Derek's breathtaking caresses, those searing kisses and the most scintillating strokes – a beautiful mastery of potent gentleness, that had her gasping for air as wave, after blissful wave, flooded her senses. Leaving a scorched path of devastation; marking her – claiming her, mind, body and soul as his. And though she struggled to admit it, he owned her heart and it was too late to get it back.

Feeling his hot, garlic breath cascading over her face; knowing Kevin's favorite thing, which she rarely ever offered him, was her only escape – she took a deep breath, and encouraged him to sit up.

She shifted, grateful to be out from underneath him – bloodshot eyes briefly glancing towards the door; body screaming, begging to flee, only to hear him tsk his disapproval, making her quickly kneel in front of him. Leaning between his open legs, staring at his white boxers; a size too small that were bunched unattractively around his waist.

Letting out a surprised squeal when he harshly tugged on her hair, snapping her head back to look up at him. "No funny business," he growled; eyes glittering with feral arousal, causing her skin to prickle with fear.

She nodded her head, feeling a fresh batch of tears well up. Hands shaking, she fumbled with the thin fabric, only for him to roll his eyes, swat her hands away and yank the boxers down his legs.

"There you go, Plum Sauce," he cooed; a sugary rasp, that made her skin crawl.

Closing her eyes, saying her calming mantra several times, before grabbing his turgid length – biting her lip, swallowing her choked sob.

Setting a firm rhythm, her mind drifted elsewhere. Minutes melting together, doing her best to ignore his pleasured grunts as he moaned encouraging phrases.

It didn't take long, before his knees began to shake, his hips thrusting in her hands as he reached his release. The sticky substance, covering his belly and her hands, had her biting back the vicious bile churning her gut.

She sat back on her heels, watching his lax body slump against the sofa, going to stand up, wanting, needing to get away, only for his cold demand to halt her movements.

"Where do you think you're going?" he gritted out, grabbing her arm and tugging her closer.

"K-Kevin," she whimpered.

Then he grabbed her copper curls, securing them in his fist and yanking her head over his lap – her lips hovering over his barely stiff member.

"You're not finished," his voice was dark, nearly unrecognizable, from the sweet, nerdy tech she had once loved.

She had but a moment to catch her breath, before he roughly shoved himself into her mouth. Tears pricked her eyes, streaming down her cheeks as she tried not to gag. Body shivering with repulsion, her hands shot out towards his hips to push away; nails scratching at the tender flesh of his thighs, only for him to tug her head closer and lift his legs, wrapping them around her – securing her in place.

She soon lost the energy to fight the filthy defeat that had crept into her bones; leaving her feeling wildly disoriented.

_ _End of Flashback_ _

* * *

The loud trill of her phone, had her yelping in surprise – banging her elbow on the edge of the desk as she fumbled to answer her ear piece.

"Garcia," she hissed through clenched teeth.

"Garcia…is everything alright?" Reid's concerned voice called out to her.

"Don't worry your brilliant mind, my boy wonder!" she chirped, rubbing her arm as she opened up a new search window. "What can Quantico's finest help you with today?"

There was a brief awkward moment of hesitancy in his response, and she nibbled on her bottom lip; grimacing when she caught the open sore – hoping she hadn't hiked her charm up too much; knowing her behavior these last few days were raising red flags amongst her team of superheroes.

"Right, I need you to look up…" he prattled; barely listening to his words as she quickly typed in the new information – taking but a moment to find the answer; she was just about to disconnect when his voice stopped her.

"Hey, Penelope," his voice low, almost uncertain.

"Yeah?" picturing his furrowed brows and wringing hands from miles away.

"Umm, if you…if you need anything…" searching for the right words in a field he was so out of place in – doing his best to comfort her.

"I will," a small smile graced her lips; feeling warmth infuse her brittle soul. "Thanks, Spencer."

Hanging up; appreciating that the topic of Derek hadn't been mentioned – knowing he wanted to ask, but respected her enough to not push.

 _You're going to need to talk to him eventually, Garcie…_

That logical little voice taunted, causing her to huff in annoyance – doing her best to shove everything into Pandora's box, refusing to face it.

"Plum Sauce!" that nasally rasp shouted behind her.

It was like the air had been sucked out of the room, causing her to freeze; fingers clutching the desk, closing her eyes when he clicked the lock in place.

"I-I'm busy, Kevin," breath shallow, hoping he would get the hint.

He was behind her in an instant, large hand cupping the back of her neck – squeezing with firm pressure, clutching her tousled copper locks.

Crackling tension thrashed around the suffocating room like a vicious serpent, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up, as that nagging fear, pitted with aggravation, crept down her spine.

"I'm working," she spat out, fingers aggressively tapping the keys.

It was one thing to ruin her home life, but her work – the place where she felt most alive, the place where she had discovered her family; had found a sense of purpose in her once, dark bitter world, was something she didn't want tainted.

She had already lost Derek.

She couldn't lose this.

Finding renewed strength; igniting that flickering spark of determination, she bolted up, only to have him grab her shoulders and slam her back down.

Yelping in surprise, wondering if his fingers would leave another mark, she glared up at him.

"Kevin, we're at work!" hating the little shaking rumble of her breath, feeling her ears heat with anger. "Stop it!"

He laughed, a deep, nasty chuckle, that made her jaw clench with bristling aggravation.

"Your teams outta town," voice a sickly coo; fingers fumbling with his hideous checkered tie.

"There are cameras in here," she gently reminded him; hoping to stop whatever he had planned.

"Penny, you're the best Technical Analyst in the building," he scoffed; lowering his head, resting his cheek against hers. "Turn them off."

"I-I can't-" gasping when his fingers dug into her soft skin.

"That wasn't a question," he sneered, releasing his tight hold, only to walk around her and lean on the desk.

Taking a deep breath, trying not to tremble, only to take too long.

"Penelope!" he barked, slamming his fist cruelly on the desk – knocking over her many trinkets; eyes blazing with fury.

Jolting in her seat, she sat forward and typed the command into the computer. Hating the petrifying fear that consumed her – dousing her independence to a pile of soaked kindling, losing that fierce spark that once gave her the strength to fight back.

"Last night," he purred, baring his teeth. "Was amazing. Don't you agree?"

Giving a simple nod, as she stared straight ahead.

"You were so beautiful, Penny," reaching his hand towards her; gently cupping her chin, forcing her to look at him. "I've been thinking about it all day."

Her body flashed hot and cold; mouth suddenly dry, tears once again stinging her eyes as the distinct sound of him tugging down his zipper, echoed mockingly around her.

"I've always wanted to do this," rubbing his thumb across her swollen bottom lip. "Being naughty at work,"

She pulled away, and he roughly dug his thumb into the sensitive cut, enjoying her wince of pain.

"Break times almost over," he tutted, dragging her out of the swivel chair to stand in front of him. "I don't have all day."

Staring at her feet, spotting the dark blue polish of her toes, remembering the night Derek had lovingly painted them for her – forcing the spiral of emotions to collide inside of her. Causing her to wrench her hands out of his tight grasp and take a stumbling step back. Glaring at him over her green frames.

"No!" she barked, grabbing the chair and rolling it between them.

Taking a shuddering breath, when his gaze became dark and his lips snarled into a twisted grin. Then he stood up, fists clenched, and walked towards her.

To be continued…


	14. IX: I

**A/N I do not own Criminal Minds. I promise everything will be answered, and that there's a method to my madness! Also, thank you all for your continued support, it means a lot!  
**

 **Please, Enjoy!**

 **Lunar Cocoon**

Chapter IX Part I

The deep, blaring music coming from his earbuds was barely keeping him distracted from his thoughts. Shifting his gaze from the floor of the jet to stare out the small window – searching the dark clouds that passed by for some semblance of comfort, only for his mind to drift cruelly back to her.

Every time he closed his eyes that diamond ring flashed like a vicious betrayal. Seeing it on her finger; baring to the world that she was taken, had left a bitter, hollow shell where his heart had once pulsed with everything Penelope.

He was a man who built his life around being a tough go-getter, who wasn't afraid of anything, and ran with guns blazing towards danger. He kicked down doors, and caught bad guys for a living; taking pride in his never ending quest of ridding the world of evil, so he could make it a better place.

A place that would nurture the world for people like Penelope. He wanted to protect her, and he would put every unsub behind bars so that she would never have to fear leaving her house and being shot again.

Somewhere, during the time of being best friends with the woman of his dreams, his mission in life had changed. What had started off as a journey of self-healing; a vigilant pursuit to forget his inner demons – ones which haunted his mind, body and spirit and kept him up all night, because those dirty, lingering memories felt almost palpable in his nightmares, had somehow faded into the distance because of the love that his Baby Girl had bestowed upon him.

She was a soothing balm for his soul – guiding him from the jagged edge of depression with those blinding rays of sunshine. Making him feel safe with those dazzling smirks of her soft, rose tainted lips and bright hazel eyes that sparkled with pure adoration. She was so sweet, so innocent, so determined to give him strength so he could forgive himself.

She was the main reason he had survived this job for so long, had been able to roll out of bed with his failures and face the world.

Taking a breath, closing his eyes, only to see the image of her hand with that pathetic fucking diamond. Gritting his teeth, he cranked the music up louder and leaned back, kicking his feet up to recline. Grumbling, as he crossed his arms; hating how easily he had forgotten that everything was essentially over between them.

That their night in Alaska, filled with frantic open mouthed, tongue probing, wet and sloppy, oh-so-fucking-hot and nearly desperate kisses, had meant nothing to her, was devastating, because it had meant everything to him.

The way she had panted sharp, little feminine purrs underneath him and screamed those throaty moans above him as she undulated her hips with sensual abandon, had struck him like lighting. She had looked wild, with those sweaty copper curls falling around her pale shoulders, nibbling on that plump bottom lip, large rounded tits bouncing, while she scratched her nails down his heaving chest and babbled profanities, it was an image that would forever be woven into his mind – completely and utterly ruining him for any other woman.

Derek Morgan was a changed man.

Had known he would never be the same from the first moment he laid eyes on Penelope.

And it simply hurt that she didn't feel the same way.

It was like he had lost her and it killed him – leaving him shattered and broken. Blinded by something that could only be akin to grief had made him bitter, made him stand by as she had a panic attack on the phone, because the battered part of his soul wanted her to hurt as much as he was.

That nasty thought, made him feel like a piece of shit for not helping her. Yes, he was fucking angry, but she was his Baby Girl, would _always be his Baby Girl_ , and he had let her down.

Something wet slid down his face – shocking him, he quickly lowered his head and wiped the stray tear away. Clearing his throat, doing his best to keep his shit together and ignore the festering guilt that churned his gut. Penelope had stolen and then abandoned his heart, she was not going to damage his ego and leave him a weeping mess too.

Looking back up, glancing around, only to catch Emily's sympathetic gaze staring right back at him. He could see questions swirling around those dark chocolate eyes, none of which he had an answer too. Shrugging his shoulders; hoping to lose her attention – sighing with relief, when something grabbed her focus and she finally looked away.

Derek was tucked away in the back of the jet, taking up the whole couch – that ominous dark cloud, telling everyone to leave him alone. Settling back into the soft cushions, he was just about to close his eyes and try to nap before they landed, when Hotch bolted up; cellphone pressed to his ear, face grim as he made his way to the small alcove at the front of the jet.

A nervous prickle of wariness, ebbed its way slowly down his spine, causing him to shift and sit upright. Then Aaron turned around and when his dark eyes locked with his own, his breath hitched and he froze.

Watching as his boss knocked on the door of the cabin to bark orders, and the moment he felt the jet suddenly change course – turning in a large wide arc that pointed them back home, he knew something was wrong. Though it wasn't until all eyes were upon him, looking nervous and almost scared, that he finally yanked out his earbuds and stood up.

"What's wrong?" he bit out, not recognizing the waver of his voice.

Though when silence was his only response, his gut churned, and his heart thudded sluggishly back to life.

"Is it Garcia?" he growled.

Nobody met his narrowed gaze, so he stepped forward, forcing Hotch to look at him, and when the older man nodded, he felt his body turn cold.

* * *

The cold metal felt heavy around her sore wrist, as she sat in the uncomfortable chair, leaning her elbows against the wooden table with her eyes closed; wanting to ignore the harsh fluorescent lights of the dull grey interrogation room that only made her pulsing migraine worse.

Taking a deep breath, wincing when her dry lips pulled and cracked open the still throbbing cut of her bottom lip. She quickly licked it, desperate for some relief only to taste the bitter tang of iron, and grow nauseous.

The heavy door creaked open and she stayed unmoving, not quite ready to face the firing squad.

"Here's some water," the cool, clipped tone of Strauss floated over to her and she finally dared to open her eyes.

Hating the dark reflective mirror on the opposite wall, which the older woman was now standing in front of. Her eyes suddenly brimmed with tears and she quickly tried to blink them away, only for one to slip down her cheek, causing her to rattle the handcuffs and chain as she wiped at her face.

"Oh…" she mumbled; glaring at the binding metal.

"Drink…it will help," Strauss sat down; crossing her arms and legs, waiting for an explanation.

"Is…is he okay?" she sniffled.

"Thirteen stitches, a possible concussion, and a few minor scratches…" she trialed off, manicured nails tapping at the table. "He'll live."

"I…I didn't…he was…" she rattled, suddenly feeling trapped, but she was so exhausted and in pain and still disoriented from the day's events.

"Garcia," Strauss tutted, arching a brow as a smug grin tugged at her mouth. "You're in a lot of trouble. You know that right?"

"No…I-I was…he came after…and I didn't mean…" her voice shook, vision becoming blurry as the tears freely fell.

"You attacked another analyst," Strauss leaned forward, iced blue eyes shooting daggers. "While at work and damaged government property."

Her throat closed up, gut churning with anxiety, and all she wanted to do was crumple up into a ball and cry.

"Though you should be grateful that Kevin Lynch isn't pressing charges," she continued, putting her fingers on the bottle and pushing it towards Penelope.

"He attacked me!" voice cracking; anger bristling down her spine – seeming to snap out of her haze.

"It's your word against his," Strauss narrowed her gaze. "You wouldn't know anything about tampering with the cameras now would you, Miss Garcia? Considering there doesn't seem to be any footage of this incident."

Penelope swallowed, as the wind got knocked out of her sails, and her eyes dropped to her lap – staring at the colorful print of her dress. One she used to love, but was now ripped and covered in spattered blood. She couldn't wait to take it off and throw it away.

"My team…" she managed, needing to have somebody on her side…though only one face came to mind. The person she needed the most, but who probably wouldn't even talk to her.

"Is already on their way back," standing up, finding joy in being able to look down at the broken woman. "We had to gather another team to send out there, because of the mess you made."

"I-I'm sorry…" she began only for Strauss to hold up her hand and cut her off.

"Have you forgotten Miss Garcia, that you belong to the bureau?" pacing the small room, heels clicking against the linoleum like bullets. "You signed a contract, stating that if you work for us, you don't go to prison."

"I know what it says," looking up, hissing when the cuff dug into the tender flesh of her bruise.

"Well as of this moment, you're suspended and under investigation," flashing her pearly whites in victory. "I suggest you cooperate."

* * *

Derek was confused and irritated that he was stuck on a jet, several hundred miles away from her, unable to help, and the fact that they weren't completely on good terms only added to his foul mood.

"This doesn't even sound like Garcia," Reid spoke up, hands twitching as his mind tried to make sense of it.

"That bitch suspended her?" Derek growled, pacing the aisle of the jet, forcing the other members to lift their legs out of his way – knowing he needed to cool off before they landed. "What about _Lynch_?" he spat.

"Morgan," came Hotch's stern command, a reminder that Strauss was still their boss and if they wanted to get to the bottom of this then they needed to control themselves.

"Nah, don't give me that man," Derek whirled around. "Somethings not right and you know it!"

"I completely agree with you," Hotch leaned his hip against a nearby seat and crossed his arms. "But we can't do anything until we land."

JJ's muffled "Fuck," said under her breath, was so unlike the usually poised blonde, that everyone froze and stared at her.

Gnawing on her bottom lip, she didn't meet anyone's curious gaze, but then Emily awkwardly reached out to give her hand a soft, reassuring squeeze and she sat a little straighter.

"We…we think that Lynch…" JJ started, finally looking at everyone, but Derek.

"What?" he prompted, hating the warning bells that went off.

"Is hurting Garcia." Emily finished, finding courage to stare at her partner.

"No," shaking his head, taking a few steps back. "Bullshit!"

"Her feet were all cut up, and she had this bruise…" tears dotted JJ's lashes, as she too tried to make sense of something she didn't want to believe.

"That fucker proposed to her," Derek bit out, hands balling tightly into fists. "He _knows_ better than to hurt her," because Lynch knew that if one hair on her beautiful head was hurt, he would have a swift boot up his ass.

"You didn't see her Morgan," Emily spoke up, dark eyes flashing. "I can't even count how many liquor bottles she finished off last night. Hell she didn't even know she was bleeding…"

"If…she attacked Lynch…that could only mean one thing…" JJ could feel her ears ringing, feeling stupid for having left her bestie alone with him. She knew better than that. It was her damn job to be better than that.

"That she was protecting herself from him," Reid finished, that pitchy, jagged edge to his voice – a rare sign that he was angry.

"Fuck," Derek growled, hand dropping to his holster, fingers itching to grab it.

"Give me your weapon," Hotch stepped forward, holding his hand out.

"What?" stepping back, glaring at his boss. "Hell no!"

"I'm not landing with you pissed off and armed," pointing at his gun. "And your backup one."

The tension in the jet was stifling, as everyone held their breath, until Rossi broke the silent standoff.

"I don't think anyone would be upset if you beat that weasel up," shrugging his shoulder, as he adjusted his navy blazer. "But if you went to prison for killing him, you're only gonna hurt Kitten. Give him your weapons."

Derek clenched his jaw; feeling every fiber in his being twist with fury – taking a few deep breaths, he finally relented and handed his guns over. Shuffling over to the couch, he plopped down, elbows resting on his knees as he stared ahead and tried to calm down. He would be no use if he couldn't think straight.

Catching sight of the dark clouds, his mind drifted towards her once again, as guilt settled into his bones and he willed the jet to go faster.

 _Hold on, Baby Girl, I'm coming._

To be continued…


	15. IX: II

**A/N I do not own Criminal Minds. I'm so sorry for the long wait, but please know that I appreciate your endless patience and wonderful support, and I am resuming my regular round of updates. So for those lovely peeps who read my other stories, _Two Wolves and a Lady_ , as well as, _Kismet_ , are up next :)  
**

 **Please, enjoy!**

 **Lunar Cocoon**

Chapter IX: Part II

The sudden commotion of familiar voices – loud, concerned, and demanding – had her head flying up off the table, where it had been resting safely in the crook of her arms. Fixing her skewed glasses, she glanced at the metal door; straining her ears, trying to make sense of what was happening outside.

Then she heard it, that distinct professional candor. "I want to speak to my Technical Analyst."

Hotch's booming timbre forced its way into the cold, stuffy room of dull grey and harsh fluorescents.

Her breath shook, stomach festered with knotted tension, as her heart thudded rapidly in her chest.

The whole time being stuck in the interrogation room, she hadn't thought about what she was going to say once she finally came face-to-face with her team.

Squirming in her seat, as the bolt unlocked, and the handle slammed down.

 _Don't cry…just breathe, Garcie…you are a strong, independent woman…you got yourself into this mess, you can get yourself out of it…just breathe and…_

 _Do. Not. Cry._

The door swung open, and her breath hitched – instantly opening up the floodgates, that she had valiantly been trying to keep back.

Standing in the doorway, a solid mass of rippling muscles, dark, narrowed gaze flitting over her body, from head-to-toe, quickly assessing her injuries, as those full kissable lips twisted into a deep scowl, and his fists clenched tightly at his sides.

The tension in the room was suffocating. Hot, thick, and brewing between them. Taut enough, that she could just reach her chipped yellow nail out and pluck it. If she dared.

There he was, her Hot Stuff. Her best friend. The one she had desperately missed these last few days, had come back for her. Fine wrinkles of worry were etched into his beautiful face, and she suddenly felt very, very terrible for making him panic – knowing how passionate he got when his family was in trouble. She was exhausted, and him being the first thing that she saw…was everything she refused to admit that she needed.

 _And oh, yep, she was so definitely crying!_

It only took that first tear to pool over her thick lashes, and then slip down her puffy cheek, that his features softened and he was surging forward.

"Derek…" came her pitiful murmur, strained with fatigue – revealing her breaking point.

She jumped up, wanting to embrace him, only to knock her chair over and rattle the handcuffs and heavy chain still attached to the wooden table. Letting out a whimper, as she shook her arms wildly in frustration.

"Hey…hey!" he called, easily, gently grabbing both of her wrists in his large palm – stilling her movements, as he gathered her into a warm, sturdy embrace. Peppering the side of her head with lovely, little kisses as he cooed into her ear. "Shh, Sweetness. I'm here. I got you."

 _Oh, great, of course the jerk was gonna be sweet to her, too!_

Hiding her face in the crook of his neck, briefly enjoying the earthy, sandalwood musk that was so distinctly him, before trying to push away – not wanting to wet his shirt and stain it with mascara, or make him feel guilty that she was upset – because then she would have to admit that she felt like a wayward train barreling off the tracks at full speed.

Pushing away once more, only for him to hold her closer, whisper lulling words of encouragement in her ear, and block her from the team – giving her the privacy that she craved. Derek knew her so damn well, and she felt like a complete bitch for ever thinking otherwise. His doting, protective way of handling her, combined with her burden of remorse, was all it took to snap that battered fissure of control, as she blindly searched her way back towards sanity.

The tears began to freely fall, as she collapsed against him, allowing him to do what he did best – support her. Finally releasing the built-up pressure that had been viciously coiling inside her all day, like a serpent, winding and winding around her heart and soul – tightening its grip, making her lose her breath and sense of self.

"I d-didn't…" she stuttered out on a trembling sob.

"I know, Baby…" his hand slowly slid up and down her back, going to grab her hip, only to freeze when she hissed and pulled away.

Staring at her strappy sandals and the pretty polish on her toes – shame starting to creep its way back up the murky surface of her mind – reminding her that she had let this happen to her. She worked for the frickin' FBI for Pete's sake…she knew better.

"Garcia," that voice called from across the room.

Derek was rigid next to her, having detected the sudden shift – not wanting to make a move that would upset her further.

"Garcia," Hotch tried again, stepping forward – letting the team gradually file in behind him.

She shook her head and bit her lip, wanting to just disappear through the ugly linoleum floor, and forget this ever happened. Her team had cases they needed to solve. This was stupid, silly. She didn't need their help…she didn't…she…

"Baby Girl…" Derek cupped her chin, tilting her head up to look at him. He sucked in a breath, eyes swirling with tempered heat; bristling with anger, when he spotted the bruising on her face. Using the pad of his thumb to carefully trace beneath her swollen bottom lip, she quickly turned away, but not before he inspected the nasty looking split – one that was hauntingly similar to his own – which was chapped and still bleeding. "What happened?" it was a gruff demand, that brooked no argument.

"I-I…um, I just…I…" tangled, copper curls danced around her shoulders, as she squirmed against him.

"Did he… _touch_ you?" his voice was dark – a voice he often used on dangerous UnSub's. For years she had heard it over her headset, but never, ever, had he directed it at her.

"No!" shaking her head.

Her answer was too fast, too practiced.

"Penelope…" JJ's sweet, soothing voice sounded distant over the ringing in her ears. "Sweetie, talk to us."

"N-Nothing…happened," she squeaked, voice hoarse with exhaustion, as she plastered an awkward smile on her face – a poor attempt at calming their nerves _._ "We just…got into a scuffle…"

The blatant lie hung in the air like a ginormous fuzzy, purple, polka dotted elephant playing a show tune – making her feel worse for deceiving her friends…her family.

But she didn't want their sympathy. Didn't need that charitable pity looming over her. Yes, she had fucked up, but it was her fault, not theirs. They had enough on their plates. She was a big girl, who could handle her own, and take care of herself.

At least that's what she was thinking, until she looked up, and only caught complete adoration staring right back at her. It was pure, genuine concern – full of unwavering determination, and what could only be love – that knocked the breath right out of her, causing her to stumble forward.

Hazel eyes, red and puffy, itchy from hours spent crying and blurred from the fresh batch of tears, she threw her hands up – a flustered habit she had failed to break – only to flash the striking silver against her pale skin. Releasing a rather inelegant growl, she tugged on the chain a few times, letting the metal angrily scrape over wood – a crappy outlet for her growing agitation.

Her shoulders slumped, hands falling to her sides, as she sniffled miserably in discouragement. Blinking away the onslaught of tears, she gasped, going completely still, when Derek reached forward and touched her cardigan. His hand hovered over the pretty blue cashmere, waiting for permission.

She held her breath, eyes furtively glancing around the small room – all hopes of him simply letting it go and moving on, were dashed when he called her that beloved nickname and said that simple word… _please_. It didn't matter how mad she was at herself, or at him, she just couldn't say no.

So, she bit down on her quivering bottom lip, ignoring the pulsing sting of her cut, she frantically shoved her anxieties back down to the pit of restless snakes in her belly, and nodded. Feeling exposed when he gently loosened the pearl button and the fabric billowed open – revealing some blood splatter on her torso and her torn dress.

Derek grumbled, muttering something heated underneath his breath, as he stared at the ripped sweetheart neckline over her breasts. It was a rather large snag, that showed a peep of pink lace underneath. He took a steadying breath, fingers trailing over the chunky yellow necklace that had disguised the vicious handprint bruise around her neck – missing the silent tears that streamed down her cheeks, as his shaking hand clutched the wide tear over her frilly skirt.

"Oh, _Penelope_ …" he said her name so softly, like she was delicately spun glass and anything louder than a baby's breath would shatter her to pieces.

His expression became stricken with grief, as tension rolled off his shoulders in devastating waves, making his jaw tick and fists clench and unclench at his sides. The weight of responsibility and self-blame appeared to make him disappear before her very eyes.

"That's evidence. Please don't touch it," Strauss forced her way through the room, a fresh mug of coffee steaming in her hands.

"Take these off," Derek lifted his dark gaze at the Section Chief.

"She's a suspect. That's procedure," arching a brow, taking a tepid sip – there was no denying the glimmer of satisfaction behind her piercing eyes.

Straightening to his full height. "Bullshit," he growled. "She's not a fuckin' animal. She's hurt," his voice dropped dangerously low, as he pointed at the thick, heavy chain and cuffs. "Take them off."

"He's right," Hotch spoke up, crossing his arms, gaze directed at his boss – daring her to suggest otherwise. "Kevin Lynch isn't being held in custody. All you have is hearsay. His words against hers. You're treating my Analyst as if she is guilty with no evidence to back it up."

"Several stitches and a concussion, which Miss Garcia here-" she huffed, setting her mug firmly on the table. "-Inflicted on TA Lynch, is quite conclusive."

"What about her injuries," Prentiss snapped, brows narrowed in accusation. "Those are defense wounds and you know it."

"You called us over three hours ago," Reid added, face scrunched up, as he calculated new information. "And I'm guessing you took your time before calling us. So, Garcia has been in here for…several hours…injured, without proper medical treatment."

"I-I'm okay…" came Penelope's little squeak; always one to placate everyone's feelings – hoping to avoid an argument.

The cramped room suddenly became claustrophobic, stifling with years of pent up animosity. A few beats passed, the only sound filling the sterile space being the incessant ticking of the clock and Penelope's soft, hiccupping whimpers, as she tried to calm her breathing.

"Erin," Rossi attempted, holding his arms out in a nonthreatening manner. "We want to solve this as badly as you do. Perhaps, even more," giving her a gentle smile. "But right now, Penelope needs to be taken care of, and I hope you won't prevent us from doing so."

Strauss took a deep breath, glaring at Rossi, Hotch, and then Morgan, only to land on Garcia. Watching the once vibrant woman tremble, seemed to knock the wind out of her sails. "Lynch has decided not to press charges," holding her hand up at the sudden outburst from the team. "Though I suggest you cross your T's and dot your I's, in case he changes his mind."

Penelope took a sudden step back. "I'm not going to the hospital!" eyes blazing, revealing a glimpse of passion that had recently dimmed the vivacious light in her life.

"There's an extra conference room on the same floor as my office," Strauss fiddled with her navy blazer. "It will be more private, and away from prying eyes. But before she leaves this building, we need her clothes and a thorough statement. I've been unable to get one from her," giving Garcia a pointed look, though it lacked any judgement. "And since she is a member of your team, we can't have this investigation compromised by special interest. So, to ensure integrity, I will be present for both."

"N-No…I just wanna go home," her throat was constricted; rattling the chains as she struggled to get away.

"Hey…look at me. Penelope, look at me…I'm gonna take you home, okay?" Derek lowered his head – without her typical, deadly high heels, she appeared shorter, smaller; something fragile that he needed to protect – making sure they had locked eyes, and she had calmed down enough before glancing away, only to spot Rossi staring right back at him.

"I hate to hurt Garcia more than we have to," speaking slowly, not wanting to ruffle any feathers. "But she has a point. We need to gather what we can, so that little weasel can't turn around and pin this on her."

Derek glared, grinding his teeth, only to relax his posture, and look back at the woman who he wanted to be so much more than just his best friend. "Baby, are you up for that?"

Staring at the floor, she gave a quick little nod, before wiping her wet cheeks.

Strauss picked up her mug, as she reached for the silver key inside her trouser pocket and handed it over to Morgan, who quickly released the heavy binds.

Holding Penelope's small hands in his much larger ones, he rubbed the pad of his thumb gently over the deep purple bruise on her wrist. Only to notice the puny diamond ring was missing from her finger. Tracing the soft, bare skin, a dark frown marred his features, as he shook his head. Glancing back up, he caught her sad, broken expression.

He stepped closer, hot breath tickling her neck, as he whispered in her ear. "I'm so sorry, Baby Girl," apologizing for not just what happened that morning, but for the whole week. For letting her believe that he didn't love her, and walking away – foolishly letting her slip once more through his struggling grasp.

Looking at her battered face, a tendril of doubt snaked its way into his clouded mind.

 _Maybe he wasn't the man for her._

 _Hell, he couldn't even keep his promise, and protect her._

Giving him a warm smile, though unable to maintain eye contact, Penelope dropped her glistening gaze back down to the floor, as she wrapped the cardigan tightly around herself.

"Let's go," giving an order, Strauss swiftly left the room.

Garcia slowly took Morgan's hand – awkwardly waddling on her wounded feet, still tender from those shards of glass – as she was led out behind Rossi and JJ, while Hotch, Prentiss and Reid protectively followed after them.

They passed a few curious Agents, that scurried away, pretending to be busy, when they received a heated, scathing look from the team members.

It took a few minutes to get down the hall, and into the elevators, but it wasn't until the shiny silver doors closed, the big light-up button was pressed, and that sudden lurch of the moving elevator – causing her nervous tummy to flip flop – that nauseating panic started to set in.

Suddenly shaking her hand free, Penelope stumbled, facing the far wall, as she fiercely gripped the railing to stay upright.

"Hey, Baby…it's okay," Derek tried, stepping closer, only to be held back by JJ, who silently told him 'no'.

Hotch slammed his palm on the red emergency button, stopping the ascent of the elevator, and stilling all its occupants.

"Garcia," speaking calmly, having everyone step back to give her space. "Is everything alright?"

The quick shake of her head, and loud sniffles, as she quickly dabbed at her cheeks with the sleeve of her cardigan, told him no.

"I can't help you, unless you tell us what's wrong."

Still nothing.

"Is this because you don't want to go to the conference room?"

Another long beat, and then a short, little nod.

"Okay, we won't go then," he took a breath, steeling his shoulders – worried that he was going to send her into another panic attack. "But, you still need to talk to us, and we need your clothes."

Her head thumped several times against the cool wall in defeat.

She didn't want to talk about it. She wanted to go home, take a shower, curl up in her favorite rainbow footed jammies and watch some cheesy Lifetime movie, while eating a pint of her favorite Chunky Monkey. Then have a glass of wine, or two, then maybe take a nap. And just…forget that this day, this week…ever happened. No, she didn't want to talk about it. She just wanted to be left alone. And the only way to do that, was to confess her little secret.

Taking a few deep inhales, slowly releasing the air with focused counts of ten, only to discreetly lift her skirt. She fiddled with her thigh for a moment, then unsnapped something, before pulling out a pink garter. The pretty scrunched silk had a little white bow in the center, and looked quite scandalous underneath the harsh lighting inside the cramped elevator.

Though shock seemed to be the common thread, there was a myriad of emotions displayed on each member. Hotch and Reid looked a mix of confused embarrassment. The younger one blushing profusely, as he adverted his gaze and played with a pin on his leather satchel. Though Rossi was grinning from ear-to-ear, his thick brow arched in appreciation, while Strauss looked somewhere between baffled intrigue. JJ and Prentiss on the other hand, had no shame, as they smirked in amusement.

And then there was Morgan. Who was…well…

"Garcia," Derek half-wheezed, half-growled in disbelief.

Ignoring Morgan's red face, Penelope pulled the pretty fabric apart – two ends unhooking from each other – revealing a hidden flash drive sewed inside the little belt.

Eyes darting everywhere but at her boss, she heavily swallowed, before handing it over. "I um…the footage is on there. I didn't…delete it," sighing, only to steel her shoulders and take a deep, shaky breath. "I just rerouted the feed to a wireless flash drive."

"To the thing…that holds up…your stockings?" Derek croaked, completely stunned, but impressed – adjusting his pants, or maybe…disgruntled?

"All my garments have one," brows slanted in a straight line, as she stuck her chin up in defiance – suddenly defensive. "I like to be prepared."

Morgan's dark gaze seemed to glance over her, only to land on her chest – squinting his eyes, perhaps pondering what secret gadgets were hidden inside her bra.

"I do not condone your methods Garcia, and I forbid you from doing that stunt again," Strauss' voice was clipped with stern professionalism, only to slightly soften after she took a hearty sip of coffee. "However, If that video proves what happened...then we won't need to bother you for further questioning. Though, I do request your clothes. The more hard evidence we collect, the better off you'll be."

Face flushed with heat, Hotch cleared his throat. "Thank you, Garcia," quickly stuffing the soft silk into his trouser pocket, before pressing the button to the BAU floor instead. "JJ, Prentiss, and Chief Strauss…" giving them all a pointed look. "You can use my office to collect her clothes," only to give a warm, reassuring smile to Penelope. "You can deliver a short statement. And then you're free to go," he gave Strauss a stern glare – daring her to suggest otherwise, though keeping up the appearance of pleasantries. "That is, if it's okay with you?" asking the Section Chief, who gave a curt nod in agreement, only to stare at his unusually quiet tech.

Penelope nodded, though her shoulders had slumped, as she looked back down at her sandals, and half-heartedly scuffed the linoleum floor. A new habit that the team wasn't fond of and were hoping that she would soon break.

"My purse!?" she suddenly blurted out, nervously wringing out her hands. "I need my purse. It has my keys, my phones, and my tablet," wrinkling her nose in concentration. "Also, I need my laptop bag. And…" only to stop when Hotch held up his hand.

"Don't worry. Reid and Rossi will get your things," catching Strauss' sideways glance. "Anything that's not evidence."

Penelope nodded, taking her first relieved breath since that morning. They would talk about her fight with Kevin that occurred in her office, then it would be done with, and she would finally be free to go home. No need to talk about the rest of the week, right? Her and Kevin were officially over. She didn't need to bring everyone else down. To have them worrying over nothing. It was nothing…

Things, after all, happened for a reason.

She didn't need to dwell on why.

The elevators dinged and she slowly, reluctantly followed the women towards Aaron's office, only for Derek's voice to halt her movements.

"Hey," stepping closer, lifting his hand to swipe a stray lock out of her eyes – only to freeze and stumble over his words when she flinched at the sudden motion. "Um…I'm gonna…grab your go-bag. So, you can um…come home with me tonight. I don't wanna leave you alone while _this_ …" waving his hand around nonchalantly – indicating the investigation that was happening between herself and Kevin. "Is happening."

 _Oh, no, no…no, nuh-uh, no way…not gonna happen!_

 _No, she was going home. Not to Derek's house. Just a measly minute left alone with him and she would spill the beans. All those dark, tainted beans of secrets she's worked so hard to hide. Then he would get pissed – at her for lying, and at Kevin for doing what he did. Then he would kick Kevin's ass, and get into trouble, and maybe lose his job. She wouldn't be able to live with herself if she ruined all his hard work. No…no she wanted, needed, to just go home and rest._

 _Tomorrow would be another day. A better day._

Getting ready to protest, she spotted Derek's split lip and the small gash on his cheek, her glistening gaze instantly fell back down to the floor, only to catch his bruised knuckles from when he had struck Eric.

A silvery tear slipped down her cheek. She had already done enough damage. She didn't need to be a burden, too.

Absently shaking her head, lips pursed without any momentum to speak.

"I think that's a great idea," Hotch spoke up, catching her hesitation. "I've been contemplating that since I heard about this on the plane. I think you'll be safer with one of us present…" furrowing his brows, a sign that his statement was coming from the position of her boss, not her friend – it wasn't to be questioned. "At all times," softening his expression just a bit. "At least, until we have this all figured out."

Her mouth gaped like a fish, as she rapidly blinked, fingers fidgeting with the rose pearls on her cardigan.

"Garcia," Hotch intoned – scrutinizing every little thing about her.

"I-I…" she tried, cinching her eyes shut – forcing the embarrassing tears away. Taking a few, calming breaths, she narrowed her gaze. "No, that's okay. I'm okay, really. I can take care of myself. You all don't need-…"

"Kitten," Rossi cut her off, and appeared almost magically behind Hotch. Giving her a look that was oddly similar to what her stepdad used to give her – making her feel like a disobedient little girl about to get lectured. "We know you can take care of yourself. But since Lynch is still out there, it would ease our minds that someone stayed with you," crossing his arms. "And kept you safe."

"I agree," JJ's firm voice floated over her, from somewhere beyond the glass doors. "And Henry wouldn't want his favorite Auntie…his only Godmother, to be in any danger."

 _Well shit. They certainly knew how to lay it on thick._

 _Stupid profilers!_

Derek smiled at her, looking like a hopeful puppy – knowing she couldn't resist that pearly-white grin.

Huffing her bangs out of her face, she gave him a withering look. "Fine. Okay. You all win," was all she could muster – hating the lack of control, as she stiffly spun on her flat heels, and trudged her way towards Hotch's office.

Oblivious of Derek's anxious gaze trailing after her.

To be continued…


	16. IX: III

**A/N I do not own Criminal Minds. I'm so sorry for the long wait, but I hope this extra long chapter makes up for it!  
**

 **Also, I would like to thank everyone who voted for _Cabaret with Chardonnay_ in the Profiler's Choice Awards. And congrats to all the other winners :D**

 **Please, enjoy!**

 **Lunar Cocoon**

Chapter IX: III

"Who's a good boy!? Huh?" Penelope happily cooed as she rubbed the back of the dog's floppy ears. "Who's a good boy? Is it you?"

Large head in her lap, Clooney wagged his stubby tail in excitement as he slobbered all over those borrowed, loose grey sweatpants. With the drawstring pulled tight and the pant legs rolled up, she looked rather frumpy and though it was a far cry from her typical outlandishly bright wardrobe, Derek couldn't help but to admire how much he loved seeing her wearing his clothes.

Clooney barked and nuzzled his head further into her side, and Derek's lips quirked with appreciation, for his dog had finally pulled a genuine smile out of the normally vivacious woman. In fact, the only person who loved Penelope as much as Derek – perhaps, even more so, was Clooney. She had a habit of spoiling him rotten, and the little shit seemed to know it; warm brown eyes gazing back at him with smug satisfaction as he bathed in her sweet attention.

"Oh, my handsome boy, it's you, isn't it!" bending over to pepper his head and snout with generous smooches, before sitting back up and wiggling her way into a more comfortable position on the deluxe leather couch. "My little grizzly bear!"

The rambunctious Rottweiler barked in agreement, tongue hanging out as he eagerly lapped the small patch of exposed belly. Penelope giggled at the ticklish sensation, hand slowly sliding up-and-down his shiny black and rusty coat as she grabbed the remote and switched on the television.

" _Umm_ , want anything to drink?" petulantly digging his sock-clad foot into the plush cream carpet. "Water? Tea? I can make some coffee."

Flipping through the stations, she politely declined with a simple shake of her head.

"Okay," scratching the back of his neck, before blurting. "How 'bout some wine? I think I still have some of that fruity shit you love."

"No, thanks," reaching for his old Cubs fleece blanket, she tucked it safely over her lap – a subtle gesture of distancing herself, that didn't go unnoticed by Derek. "Besides I don't think it would mix well with the Aspirin."

"Oh," swallowing heavily. "Right."

Eventually finding a station to watch, she propped her head up on her arm that was resting on the back of the couch; skewing her glasses as her fingers smooshed against her battered face.

"I'm fine, Derek," her voice was a graveled rasp; hoarse from the hours spent crying that day, and it easily festered the guilt rotting in the pit of his gut. "You don't need to hover."

Peeling his concerned gaze away from that nasty purple bruise across her cheek to glance at the cable box with the red flashing numbers; unaware of how long he had been standing there, staring. "You need to eat something."

He watched the tension rise in her shoulders, before she gave him a scathing glare.

"I can order pizza," shrugging his shoulders, hand flying over the cluttered stack of mail on the tiled countertop, scrunching up the glossy coupons. "I'll even go for that BBQ-feta-pineapple thing you always get."

"Der-…" she started, only for him to barrel through, unable to stop the ire that seemed to have scratched its way to the surface.

"Or we can do some soup. Might be easier on your stomach," gesturing towards the cabinets behind him. "I have tomato. I can even make some grilled cheese."

"Dammit Derek!" she huffed, throwing the blanket over her legs – startling Clooney, who got tangled up in the heavy fabric. "I said I was fine!"

"Bullshit! Look at you!" he roared, making her jolt in surprise, and he immediately regretted his outburst.

"I'm well aware of my appearance, you jackass!" taking a shuddering breath, unable to stop her voice from cracking. "I did just spend three whole hours staring at my reflection inside that interrogation room."

Her rare, but intentional, expletive slip caused him to smile. For it was a sign she was pissed off, which meant he was slowly breaking through Penelope's stubborn independence. He had been worried about the awkward tension that had fallen over them – seeping into the gnarled splinters of their once unbreakable bond – during the long, silent car ride back to his house, though her sudden resistance had an inkling of hope permeate his body.

Clooney whimpered, pressing his nose into her shoulder as he sniffed the hoodie she had taken from his go-bag. The white print that read _Chicago Police Academy_ was faded, and her buxom curves stretched the soft material, but it was a lot warmer than any of the frilly cardigans she had packed.

"Ya know, you wouldn't need to worry about feeding me if you would just let me go home," came her snide retort. "To my apartment."

Biting his inner cheek, suppressing that toothy grin as his friend's fiery spirit made a brusque appearance.

"You and I both know that ain't happening," narrowing his gaze; crossing his arms in a challenging stance.

Her inelegant snort of disbelief grated his already waning patience, and he stepped forward.

"What?" he barked, hating the tight tick in his jaw. "Do you honestly think I'm gonna let you spend the night all by yourself after that piece of shit attacked you!?"

"Oh, don't you dare!" she spat, flying off the couch and stomping her way towards him. "Don't you dare act like you give a shit!"

 _Ah, there it was…the gnawing splinter in her armor, she had been waiting all week to pull out._

"Hey!" batting her hand away as she sharply jabbed her finger into his solid chest. "Stop that!"

"No! You...you-…" hands gesticulating wildly around her, trying to make words out of thin air. "Big ol' self-centered, bullheaded, hot as sin, narcissistic, liar!"

"Garcia," lowering his voice, holding her dainty wrist firmly in his large palm. "I know I don't have the best track record when it comes to relationships, but I've never lied to you."

"Yes, you did!" tugging her arm against his persistent grasp, as her other hand wiped furiously at her damp cheeks.

"No. I didn't."

"You did!"

"Pen-…"

"You told me you loved me in Alaska!" she sobbed, using all her strength to shove him away. "And the minute we get back home…you…you left me…"

"Baby, no…I didn't leave you," struggling to hold on to her.

"And Kev- _he_ showed up…and he was so mad," accidentally stepping on his foot, she broke free, nearly stumbling backwards. "A-And he knew…he knew about what we did…and you weren't there…and then h-he…he…"

"Baby-…"

"Why weren't you there!?" looking up at him with watery eyes, making his heart catch in his throat. "Why?"

His ears were ringing, sweat beading across his furrowed brow as he suddenly realized there was more to the story. That he – a man who profiled people's behavior for a living – had apparently missed a vital piece of the puzzle. While on the jet back home to Quantico, JJ and Emily had alluded to the possibility of Kevin hurting her. He had refused to believe it then. Though, standing here now, watching tears stream down the face of the woman he loved as fury flashed behind her beautiful hazel eyes, he knew.

And then she could have knocked him over with a feather with her next confession.

"You promised me…" a soft, detrimental whisper that lacked any vitriol. It was simply just the truth. "That you would protect me."

Breath seeps from his body as his chest collapses beneath the accusation.

"And I know…" she quickly backtracked, taking a tepid step closer as unbridled devastation crosses his face. "I know…it's not your fault. I know that. Sane, little Garcia, knows that. I do. But _this_ Garcia…" hands falling in a swooping motion down her body. "I-I…I can't help it. I'm just…I'm mad at you!" stomping her bare foot, thrusting her hands onto those shapely hips. "And I don't wanna be mad at you. You're my…Hot Stuff. And you know I hate being all angry at things…" flashing her pearly white teeth as she starts to pace. "It makes me all itchy and ruins my cute, sparkly rainbowed, fluffy kittens, speckled Zen. But, I'm mad Derek. I'm really, really mad!"

Ignoring the panging remorse coursing through him, unable to stop the acerbic words from escaping. "You told _Lynch_ …" spitting his name out like some vile disease. "That you wanted to marry him, _after_ I told you that I loved you. If anyone checked out…it was you, Baby Girl."

Her brittle gasp barely registered over the haze of his anger as the sudden urge; the explicit need to release days of pent up animosity, overtook him.

"How little do you think of me, that you don't believe the words I told you?" voice breaking with tempered exasperation. "You're the only woman I've ever said I love you to," rubbing a palm down his face, squeezing the growing tension in his jaw. "I let it all out. Handing you my heart on a silver platter only for you to shit all over it and put another man's fuckin' engagement ring on your finger!"

The bomb had been dropped, instantly sucking the air out of the room, encapsulating them within a dry heat, buzzing energy, and their panting breaths. Though, it didn't explode. Rather, it sat there, disintegrating between them, like a shiny grenade threatening to destroy everything they had spent years denying – hiding behind flirtatious banter and sweet forehead kisses.

It now laid bare before them, slithering like a viper ready to strike – a cruel reminder that they knew what the other looked like without clothes. What the weight of their bodies felt like melding together as they thrust and rutted against each other. Slick, sweaty skin, hot and smooth beneath their touches. Ragged gasps of _please_ , _faster_ , _harder_ , imbued with desperate moans, grunts and hisses that had become an amorous melody their ears would never forget. While whispered promises and toe-curling pleasure still lingered on their lips and between their thighs.

Oh, how blatant, barebone honesty was difficult to hide from.

Mouth falling open, hand flying over her chest, Penelope unconsciously took a staggered step back while her coppers curls, now loose and tangled, shook around her shoulders.

Cinching his eyes shut as his shoulders slumped in defeat. "Fuck, Baby…no, that's not…I didn't mean that."

Clooney whimpered, slowly winding through Derek's legs seeking comfort, and Derek briefly wondered when everything had gone so terribly wrong between him and the woman standing so brokenly despondent in front of him.

Perhaps it was the moment Penelope forgot how well she knew Derek. That she was his best friend; knew him better than his own Mother. Yet, she had allowed her deep-seated insecurities to cloud her judgment and drive the first daggered wedge between them.

Though, she wasn't the only one at fault, since Derek had also decided to leave. Years of heartache forcing him to walk away from the scene in her living room, before she could obliterate whatever was left of his dignity.

Either way, their small and seemingly trivial actions had dire repercussions. So much so, that Derek felt completely lost, like being ensnarled in the turbulence of a violent storm and he had forgotten how to swim.

Their lines of communication had frayed and snapped, making it feel like she was miles away from him, when she was only three steps away. Wanting to reach out and comfort her, he abruptly stepped closer only to freeze when he saw her eyes widen in alarm. A flash of terror that turned her soft features into hard, jagged planes and pulsed that innate need to protect her throughout his entire body like molten lava.

Teetering on that dangerous precipice, he needed to choose his next steps carefully. Not wanting to see her slip, once again, through his struggling grasp, he braced himself before diving head first into the fight of his life.

"Baby, please look at me," he pleaded, pressing his fingertips over his lips, before holding his arms out to her.

"Don't," she sniffled, tugging the hem of the thick cotton hoodie as she struggled to yank it over her head, huffing when it got stuck beneath her chin and elbow. She growled, took a deep breath, and finally pulled her head free, only to haphazardly throw it at him. "I'm going home!"

"That's not safe!" he easily countered, tossing the hoodie onto the couch, glaring when she began to untie the flimsy drawstring.

Releasing the knot, she let his sweats fall to the floor; pooling at her blue-tipped feet, before kicking it behind her. Leaving her only in a thin cotton camisole which reminded him of those thermal pajamas she had worn that fateful night in Alaska. A pretty, pale yellow that had easily become his favorite color.

"Where's my go-bag?" she groused, peeking around him.

Swallowing heavily, staring at the soft, rounded swells of her large tits, still perky even without a bra, before letting his tired gaze trail lower to discover the adorable lace matching boy shorts with tiny, pink polka dots. They hugged her hips and creased between her thighs and he briefly imaged what the flimsy material was doing to her backside. He had fond memories of that rounded flesh, pale and generously plump, perfect for gripping when he thrust inside of her.

His dick twitched with tempered yearning, and he bit back a groan. Though, he must not have been successful since her manicured brows furrowed with concern and her lips became a flat line, void of any emotion.

Daring a glance up, he was surprised to see the sudden emotion swirling behind her eyes. They had been dark and somber all day, but something familiar glimmered behind them now. It was the same exact look she had inside that wooden cabin, while sitting perched on his lap, greedily undulating her hips as she sought her release. And he recognized it the minute they slowly fluttered open and she surged forward with bold determination.

"You want to take care of me?" using that husky purr that had always been a nightly companion in his dreams. "Is that right, _Morgan_?"

Throwing his once concealed, dark kept secret – of how he loved her screaming his last name as she writhed desperately beneath him, tits bouncing, nails roughly raking down his back, voice growing hoarse with each wailing moan as she praised his name like a Deity written in books, thousands of years old; she was also the only woman to have ever called him Morgan in bed, and he would never forget that sound – right back into his face.

Her words slice through him like cold steel, knocking him breathless as he stumbles backwards and slams his hip into the edge of the countertop.

"Kiss my boo-boos…" she advances, tongue playfully darting out to tease the bow of her upper lip. "And make me feel all… _better_."

"Garcia," he croaks out, eyes wide like saucers as she leans her lush body against his.

"Hmm?" small hands coming forward to play with the tapered hem of his shirt; fingers easily skimming over his toned tummy.

"What are you doing?"

"Helping you…help me," her tone is flippant and the giggle she emits afterwards is just as fake.

Arching her body, she presses her heavy, ample bosom against him. The thin cotton of their shirts barely dulled the heat emanating from their skin or the feel of her turgid nipples, scraping across his chest. His nostrils flare as he breathes deep, trying to quench his burning lungs as his hands shoot out to hold her hips steady, only to slide lower and squeeze her ass.

Nibbling on his earlobe, she firmly cups his neck, pulling him closer as her other hand slides over those hard-earned washboard abs to flick his soft, flat nipple with her nail.

Something akin to a snarl, low and deep, from the back of his throat is the only noise he can produce as he stills his own hands and tilts his head away from her – trying to calm the thunderous beating of his heart, only for her tongue to suddenly lap that sensitive spot beneath his ear. "Garcia…Baby-…" licking his lips, letting his eyes drift close. "Girl…c'mon, stop that…" voice strained – graveled with lust and a lilt of uncertainty.

"Is that a question…" comes her delightful coo with a distinct biting edge. "Or a threat?"

Raising his shirt towards his neck, she frantically peppers his lovely, dark skin with wet, sloppy kisses as her hand drops and easily unbuckles his belt, yanking the worn leather free and letting it fall to a clattering heap on the varnished walnut laminate.

Though it's the crisp, hiss of his zipper that's the bucket of ice water his body needs to catch up with his mind. Swiftly grabbing her wrist, he squeezes it with enough pressure to slow her movements.

She pouts, squirming in his grasp. "You're not getting shy on me now, are you, Angelfish?"

Lifting his heated gaze from the expanse of jiggling, mouthwatering cleavage in front of him, he glimpses the challenging glint in her dour, honey-flecked eyes, and frowns.

It's only then, that he allows himself to look at her. Really, really look at her. And he doesn't like what he sees.

The pain Lynch had caused her is evident in the dark purplish hues on her face, the cracked, swollen split in her bottom lip, and the angry fingerprint bruise around her neck. He suddenly needs to see the rest of her, needing to make sure she is okay. If he can see the wounds he can fix them, and in his confused, exhausted mind…fixing her – piece, by broken piece, is the only thing he knows how to do.

"Penelope," he whispers so quietly that she goes completely still and squints up at him. "Sweetness…lemme see."

Her head cants to the side, teeth worrying her bottom lip as understanding washes over her and she tries to step back.

"Oh, fiddlesticks!" she whines, face flushing with scarlet embarrassment – realizing he had been on to her the whole time.

That she had planned this little stunt somewhere between the BAU and the long ride in his SUV. That she would distract him, work him up – hoping he would prove her new insecurities, fears and doubts to be true; that he wouldn't want to be with someone who had been a victim of abuse – then he would let her go home, so she could build up her fortified walls, throw away the key, and hide behind learned smiles and bright, flashy accessories.

Silly, silly girl.

He wasn't stupid.

And Penelope Garcia was not damaged goods.

Not in his eyes. Never, ever in his eyes. She was his beautiful best friend. The best lover he had ever had. The woman he wanted to go to bed with and wake up to every morning for the rest of his life. He imagined a dazzling ring, the one his mother had given him many years ago, for that special someone, adorning her finger as she wore a stunning white dress – a sparkling, frilly lace thing that made her look like a princess.

Without thought, he glanced down, hands dancing over the soft swell of her belly and picturing it swollen with his child. His knees nearly buckled, before becoming slack jawed with the weight of realization. Wondering how long he had been in denial about his true feelings for Penelope.

Shaking away his thoughts he steeled his face with mastered intensity and cleared his throat.

"Look, hardhead," rolling his eyes when her lips twist into a frown and her nose scrunches with that familiar defiance. "You know damn well you aren't leaving my sights 'til this shit is cleared up with that fucker. And that I know for a fact you're one-hundred percent okay."

"Well if you would listen with those perfectly sculpted ears of yours…" dramatically batting her dark lashes, still smudged with mascara and eyeliner from her tears, as her fingers scratched lightly over his collarbone. "Then you would know that I'm fine."

" _And if_ _you_ …" imitating her pitchy, feminine voice that she used when she was lying as he bopped her sweetly on the nose, though his wide grin couldn't hide the severity behind his heavy gaze. "Would open those lovely eyes of yours, then you would see, that you're not _fine_."

Huffing out a sigh, blowing her wispy bangs out of her face, she stomps her foot and throws her head back. Taking a long moment to stare wistfully at the ceiling, before slumping her shoulders and straightening back up.

"You know, all this time…" she mused, crossing her arms over her chest – pressing her breasts together, emphasizing that gorgeous valley of cleavage – and smirking with smug satisfaction. "I thought my hunka-hunk of delicious mocha, would be easily persuaded by my _ta-tas_ …" giving a tiny shimmy as she peered over her frames. "And now this Goddess feels awfully underappreciated."

He salivated, wanting to apologize and nod his head in agreement and then do her bidding. Hell, he would do anything for her at the snap of her always eccentrically tipped fingers. He knew deep down that she knew that little tidbit, and he had stopped pretending that he didn't.

"That sexy mouth of yours is also not gonna get your pretty ass home any quicker," bending slightly at the knees, to look her straight in the eyes and smile. "So you can quit, while you're ahead."

"Aha!" she yelled, shaking her finger at him. "I knew it! See!" throwing her hands up as she whirled around a few times. "I knew you didn't wanna horizontal tango with me anymore! What, you got your test ride? Got to pass Go and collect a few spine-tingling, toe-curling, oh-so- _ah-mazing_ orgasms!" she growled out, fingers wiggling with gusto in front of her face before she clutched them at her sides, took one giant breath and rambled. "Before you realized that little ol' Garcia with her extra-extra curves, crazy hair – that now usually only takes twenty minutes to do. Her bright as neon dresses, and quirky fun glasses – which yes, okay, I admit, I might have a _slight_ hoarding habit, but that is totally not my fault since they make so many cute pairs," pointedly tapping her orange bedazzled frames. "Also, I have a quintessential love for all things technological and yes, I collect troll dolls and _lots_ and _lots_ of memorabilia from my favorite sci-fi shows, because why not!" she gasped, fanning her camisole as her cheeks bloomed with heat. " _Soo_ , clearly I can see that I am not up to Derek Morgan's typical Miss Friday Night. The supreme super models you're used to dating, with their perfectly shaved long legs and professionally dyed, frost-tipped hair, and those skinny mini waists! I mean…why did you bring me to your house? Huh? Did you just want to rub it in!?" she snapped, eyes flashing dangerously – letting the air charge around them.

He arched a brow in exasperation as his full lips pursed into a straight line. "You done?"

"What?" she hissed, looking appalled. "N-No!"

"Okay," leaning back against the countertop, he crossed his arms and ankles, and got comfortable. "Then continue."

Her eyes slowly blink as she awkwardly pushes her glasses back up, which had slipped down during her tantrum. Opening her mouth to speak, only to sputter a few times, and blink some more.

"Come on, get it all out," gesturing his hand to proceed. "What's that thing you always say 'bout holding in your anger? Plus, I don't want ya to get wrinkles from all this extra frowning."

"Oh, you…you…" she grumbled.

And then he stepped forward. Eyes dark and demanding.

"You're the smartest woman I know. So, I know you're aware that I didn't bring you here to fuck you," holding up his hand, immediately stopping her rebuttal. "Oh, don't get me wrong. I loved fucking you. I haven't stopped thinking about that night. How you moved beneath me and above me, panting my name. I'm hard just thinking about it. Fucking you was the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I plan on doing it again, and again…and again," he was so close to her now, body practically melded to hers as his hot breath danced over her neck and tickled her hair. "But I won't make a move on you, until you've healed. Until your big, beautiful mind…" tapping the center of her forehead, before tenderly cupping her battered face with his large palms – wiping away the batch of fresh tears with his thumbs. "Is not so confused. When you don't look scared shitless when I raise my voice or suddenly move. I know you don't want to talk about what happened. That's fine. I'll wait. But you have to eventually, and I'll be right here when you do," threading his fingers into her soft locks. "And I know you hate that I'm worrying about you. That the rest of the team is worrying. And you think that you're bothering us, but you're not. You would do the same thing for any of us, in a heartbeat. So, get those silly thoughts out of your head. I brought you here to take care of you, and I'm not going to start by giving you a pity fuck, Penelope. I love you too damn much, to ever do a stupid thing like that."

She was silently crying now, big, fat tears freely streaming down her cheeks and pooling at her chin, ruining the rest of her makeup.

Tightly wrapping his arms around her back, he tucked her body against his, and let her openly sob into his chest. Her body shook violently, and he gently swayed her back-and-forth, before carefully sliding them to the floor and propping her on his lap. He rubbed her back, her sides, her arms – petting her like a cat, soothing away her pain, until she was hoarse with exhaustion.

The minutes had slowly ticked away and the warm, blue sky was now faded into hues of dark golds and pinks. An evening chill had settled over them and his stomach made a loud noise of protest that stirred Clooney awake next to him. The anxious pup was snuggling by his legs, head on Garcia's lap as he did his best to comfort his favorite human's.

Penelope's muffled giggle filtered through the quiet room, making Derek look down at her.

"You should eat," resting her head on his broad shoulder, she let her fingers play with the rough prickle of his beard and then slowly, carefully traced the smooth skin around his split lip.

"I'm good."

"You missed lunch," she pouted.

And he could have chuckled at her stern expression. Hadn't he been the one to scold her earlier for not eating?

"I'll make us dinner in a little bit."

"Oh?" lowering her hand to rest on the patch of exposed skin around his collar. "How did this girl get so lucky to eat Mr. Morgan's fine cuisine?"

He snorted, lifting her slightly and stretching his legs out, before setting her back down on his lap. "I only cook for the really, really pretty ones."

She smacked his shoulder, and then played with Clooney's floppy ear for a few moments. He watched as she chewed on her bottom lip and her eyes glanced around the room, before she took a deep breath and spoke quickly.

"Sorry I got a little, teensy bit coo-coo back there. And then tried to seduce you. And then yelled at you." she sniffled, needing to use his tear-stained shirt to dab at her cheeks.

Pressing his lips against her temple, he gave her a lingering kiss, before pulling away. "Hush. You can seduce me anytime."

She burst with giggles and then winced, hand flying to her side before she could stop it. She looked up, catching his concerned gaze and froze.

"How 'bout I run you a nice bubble bath," he tried, hoping she wouldn't fight the idea. "It will help relax your muscles. And calm you enough so you can get some sleep tonight. You need to rest."

She took her glasses off, using the bottom of his shirt to clean them, before putting them back on her face and smiling brightly.

"Sounds lovely," she chirped, slowly getting up out of his lap and stretching out any kinks in her back.

He easily jumped up and waited to follow her upstairs, only for her foot to hit the first step and shriek.

"What!" he hollered, eyes frantically darting around the room as his hand reflexively dove for his hip.

"I'm not wearing any pants!" glaring at him with accusation. "Or a bra!"

His eyes flew downwards, spotting those gumdrop sized nipples peeking through that thin cotton, and smirked.

"I took my pants off?" she reiterated, face scrunched up adorably in confusion. "When did I take my pants off?"

"Um, somewhere between teasing me and screaming at me," he responded truthfully.

She scowled, and a beaming grin covered his face.

"Hey!" she whined, throwing an arm over her chest and another over her crotch. "Stop staring!"

"Why I've already seen it," he shrugged, pearly white teeth flashing. "Hell, I still remember what you taste like."

Her mouth fell open, gaping like a stunned fish as her cheeks and neck blushed a dark shade of scarlet.

"Come on, Hot Stuff," he cooed, jogging swiftly up the stairs.

He had his large, oval whirlpool tub filled with steaming hot water and was contemplating adding scented floral oils, when he heard her feet shuffling in warily behind him.

"I don't know if I should add this or not. I don't want it to irritate your feet," reading the back of the label as he thrust his arm into the water to test the temperature. "But it's all ready for you," deciding it was better to be safe than sorry, he put the plastic bottle on the edge of the tub and got up from his kneeling position.

"I don't deserve you, Derek," her words were so soft, so broken, that it had his heart racing and him spinning around to look at her.

"What? Baby, don't say that. Of course, you do."

Shaking her head pitifully, gaze glued to the floor. "N-No, no I don't. You're being so sweet, and I treated you so bad, because I thought…I thought…"

"Garcia, look at me," voice strong, unflinching with sincerity. "Baby, look at me."

She shook her head again, and securely wrapped her arms around herself.

He reached for her, but she stepped back, bumping into the wall behind her. Though that didn't stop him from surging forward, as one arm shot out against the wall by her head, and the other grasped her chin and tilted it up.

She cinched her eyes shut, and bit her bottom lip. Wincing with pain, until he delicately traced the wounded skin with his thumb and her eyes slowly fluttered open.

"I know why you were mad," speaking slowly, letting her hear every word. "You thought I left you, Baby, but I didn't. I only went out that morning because you didn't have any food in the fridge and I wanted to surprise you with breakfast. And when I came back…" he took a steadying breath, needing to look away from the visible pain staring back at him, and find the strength to reassure her, though he was too late.

"Wait, you were there?" she whispered. "What? When? I thought you left!"

"I did. But only because-…"

"Why did you leave?" voice rising as her face blanched with fury.

"Because when I came back Lynch was with you!" he spat, roughly rubbing a hand across his face. "And I heard him ask if you wanted to get married. And…and you told him yes."

"No, Sweetie, no," rapidly blinking away tears; doing her best not to cry, but failing miserably.

"Pen, I heard you!"

"You heard wrong!"

"No. You told him you wanted to get married," he snarled, brows furrowed with anger.

"Yes, because I do want to get married, just not to him!" reaching forward, clutching his shirt, only for him to slip out of her grasp and step away. "I didn't say his name, Derek."

The energy around them cracked and sizzled with that familiar, vehement heat; an innate yearning, which only they could elicit within each other. Though rather than acknowledge what it meant, they fell back on old habits and ignored the obvious.

"Then why did you accept his ring?" there was no animosity behind his words, just a desperate need from his heart to hear the truth.

"Because you weren't there," she sniffled, wiping furiously at her eyes. "I thought I lost you. And that you didn't want me. And then he showed up, and he was pissed and he attacked me!"

Her eyes shot open at her mistake. Panicking she took in one giant inhale, and then another, until she began to frantically flap her hands.

"He what!?" he roared, startling her as she yipped in surprise.

"He stopped! He didn't do anything!" she reassured him, hands coming to rest on his chest, quickly smoothing over his shirt to calm him down, but he wasn't having it.

"What the fuck did he do?" voice a strangled rasp, as he gripped her hips and tried to steady himself.

"He…" swallowing heavily, taking a few, quick breaths before finally blurting it all out. "He saw the hickey you left. And…and he dragged me into my room and got a bit carried away. But he stopped…" raising her hand to cup his cheek, as her fingers tenderly traced the fine lines of worry that became etched into his smooth skin.

"What else did he do?"

Her eyes locked with his, before her morose gaze dropped to the floor. "Nothing happened. That's all."

"Garcia…"

"You said you would wait until I was ready," came her gentle reminder as her fingers fiddled with the hem of her camisole.

Those intense amber eyes seemed to pierce her soul as he perused her trembling body from head-to-toe. Though, finally he released a breath that slumped his shoulders in defeat. "I did, didn't I?"

"Mmhmm," she nodded, staring at the tub.

"Here, let me warm it back up for you," giving her a long, hard look, before tapping her on the nose and going to add hot water, only to freeze when he turned back around.

"Oh, baby…Penelope," he cried.

She had stripped while he was getting ready, revealing the large bruise – a mottled array of dark purples and blues, an ugly shade of green and yellow-brown, that covered the top of her ribs to her lower waist, as well as the nasty bite mark over the rounded, soft flesh of her breast. It was red and swollen, and the individual indents of teeth that had broken skin, had Derek's blood curdling with rage. The kind he only felt when taking down an UnSub.

"Oh, baby, my sweet, Penelope," gingerly stepping forward, wanting to reach his hand out and caress her, only to still a few inches away – fearing that the moment he touched her, she would shatter like finely spun glass.

"Later, Hot Stuff," giving him a warm, weary smile – fatigued having settled into her bones. "I'm tired. And I have a headache."

He nodded, unable to move or speak, only aware that she had stepped around him and submerged herself into the soothing heat of the bath. He heard her take a breath and dunk completely under the water, and he whirled around – needing to see her come back up.

She did a moment later and he passed her a wash cloth. Meticulously wiping her face, she then relaxed into the bath by leaning her head against the cool porcelain.

"I'm gonna…go get dinner ready," he muttered, eyes landing on that hideous bruise around her slim neck. The one he had been trying to ignore all day. "We'll talk later, okay? When you're ready."

"Mmhmm," she purred, eyes staying closed as she sunk lower into the water.

"Promise?"

A long, silent beat.

And then a simple, quiet…

"Promise."

He managed a slight nod, though she was too busy pouring a hearty amount of shampoo into the palm of her hand to notice. He stood there mesmerized – watching her eyes drift close while she patiently worked the strawberry liquid into her pretty crimson locks. She then sat up, lifting her chest out of the water – baring those beautiful breasts, and flashing that horrible bite mark once more.

Clenching his teeth, hating the bitter taste of bile in the back of his throat, he quickly spun around on his heel and fled the room – needing to get away from her, before he jumped into the bathtub and kissed every inch of her exposed skin.

Sliding across the bottom landing with his socks, he nearly tumbled over a sleeping Clooney. Gently nudging him out of the way, Derek headed towards the fridge and got out a cold beer. Easily popping the cap off, he chugged half of it down, before slamming it onto the countertop – letting the cool air from downstairs wash over him, only to lift the narrow bottle to his lips and swig the rest.

Feeling the bad taste leave his mouth, he went to go toss the empty, cheap booze into the trash, when the floorboard behind him suddenly squeaked.

"Baby? What are you doing out of the-…" he didn't get to finish his sentence, as strong arms tightly wrapped around his chest – swooshing the air from his lungs.

He struggled, slamming the heavy weight of the intruder into the fridge – knocking over magnets and the wine glasses sitting on top. The sound of them shattering on the linoleum floor sounded explosive inside the quiet house.

"Son of a bitch!" he grunted, using his upper strength to break the man's tight grip – managing to get loose, but before he could get away, he felt a searing pain slam into his neck.

The man suddenly released him, letting him stumble into the kitchen table. Feeling loopy, he lost his balance and slammed into a chair and fell over it. Growling, Derek ripped the needle out from the crook above his shoulder – swiftly turning the vile around in the palm of his hand to use as a weapon, but before he could stand back up the burly man delivered a swift kick beneath his ribs. And the needle flew from his grasp and slid across the floor.

"Garcia!" Derek gasped, grunting in pain. "Penelope!" twisting his body, trying to reach the hidden gun strapped to his ankle.

He was just about to pull it free when the heavy, steel-toe boot stomped viciously on his hand. The angry crunch of bone as his fingers snapped beneath the pressure had a strangled scream flying passed his lips.

"Derek!" Penelope's worried voice filtered through the haze of agony, and he suddenly felt adrenaline kicking in as the need to protect her surpassed his own safety.

Swiftly rolling over, he caught the bright menacing eyes underneath the black ski mask, before lifting his legs and thrusting his feet into the center of the man's chest, easily propelling him backwards.

Gritting his teeth, shaking off the lethargic pull of the drugs in his system, Derek scrambled to stand up and stumbled his way towards the stairs, where he tripped on the bottom step – making his head spin, as the urge to throw-up intensified.

"Hot Stuff?" Penelope's sweet voice, filled with concern, reached him from the top landing.

She stood there trembling, wearing only a large white towel, clutched tightly around her chest, as water dripped from her hair and onto the carpet. She looked so small and innocent, and Derek could feel his heart thud wildly in his chest as the image of her getting hurt flashed in his mind.

The presence behind him loomed, just as she was about to take a step towards him.

"No! Baby…run!" he yelled. "Run, Garcia!" using the rest of his energy to throw himself onto the intruder.

Penelope's terrified scream rang through the house as they rolled around on the floor. Though his grip was weakening and his vision blurring. Turning his body into dead weight, making it easier for him to be roughly picked up and slammed back down, knocking the wind right out of him.

He sputtered, gasping for breath, letting his leaden gaze trail back towards Penelope.

Her horrified, tear-streaked face, was the last thing Derek saw, before something heavy struck the side of his head – instantly sending his entire world into complete darkness.

To be continued…


End file.
